#now how can i make this more crazier…. <- already knows how to

[inbabylontheywept]

The Motherfucking Lizard King

No one at work trusts my boss. 

He's smart. He works hard. He's not trustworthy. He hasn't actually fucked anyone at work over, but he's ruined his last two marriages with affairs, and got dumped by his third fiance when he wouldn't sign a prenup. The fact that we all know this is just a hazard of working in a small town. 

Anyway: The thought process of the people in the lab is that if he screwed over his first wife, and his second wife, and was probably planning on screwing over his third wife, it would be insane for him not to screw us over. After all, what kind of idiot treats their employees better than their spouse? 

I dunno. His kind, I guess? He's had a few chances to fuck us over, and he hasn't taken them. Opposite really. When our parent company was doing furloughs, he stayed in the office almost a hundred hours, talking and talking and talking his way up the corporate ladder. And in the end, no one at our site got furloughed. 

He's pulled strings like that before. And it baffles me, right? Because it really does make zero sense. He'll move the heavens and the earth for us, but his wife and kids are afterthoughts. It feels like any moment, he's going to look into the mirror and realize how stupid that is. It feels like I'm betting on him making the same stupid mistake again, and again, and again - like it would be less cynical to believe he was, eventually, going to stab me in the back. But he hasn't yet, and as far as I can tell he's been making that mistake for close to fifteen years, and it's already cost him everything it can. If he was going to learn, he would have by now. 

So my position on him is that if he wanted to date someone I cared about, I'd warn them off. I don't trust him there. But I tentatively trust him to be my boss. Maybe one day he'll stick the knife in and twist, and everyone will say Ah, Babs, we warned you, but for now, I accept that he's doing a very predictable, very irrational thing, and I've made my peace with it. 

---

My job has glue traps. 

No one likes the glue traps, but we don't have a lot of options. Poison's banned by state law, spring traps are banned by company safety, and several non-lethal options tried in the past failed to work. The mouse problem can get pretty bad if it's ignored, and there's some real health hazards in that. Our site has never had a positive hantavirus test, thank God, but the big base about a half hour away has. That guy's gonna be on oxygen the rest of his life. 

If a mouse gets caught, we just euthanize it. But more than mice get stuck. Lizards can wander into those traps too, and the people working there have different feelings about the lizards. They don't pose nearly the same kind of risk mice do. They're chill little guys, and they keep the moths away, and they're just 

You know. They're friendly. There's something to be said about walking into a room, and hitting the light switch, and seeing two little guys on the wall start to do pushups as soon as they see you. 

People used to just euthanize the lizards too, but I had pet leopard geckos as a kid and I couldn't take that so I wound up googling how to free animals from glue traps. Now, when a lizard gets stuck in a trap - which happens once or twice a week - I get some vegetable oil from the breakroom, and a little plastic fork, and I'll spend fifteen to twenty minutes just kind of gently prying the little guys out. 

I have a team of technicians that help me operate one of the larger machines. They're real blue collar guys, ex-airforce, and they make me look like a little kid. Being an engineer means they'll look to me as a leader sometimes, which is a wild experience. And I started helping the lizards for my own conscience, but one of the crazier consequences of it has been that it seriously boosted my leadership cred. Because those guys see me, and they go: Hey. If he's willing to fight for a lizard, he's gotta be willing to fight for me. 

I cannot overstate how nice that is. Most engineers that want to make a change to a maintenance practice, or try an upgrade, they have to work their asses off to get the techs to buy in. But I can just ask. They already trust me to do good. They know I'm new, and they know I'm not the smartest engineer in the building, but they also know I'm the one who gets lizards out of the glue traps. 

And just because of that, they're willing to follow me. 

---

My boss has a meeting every month or two. It's typically basic house cleaning stuff - reminders about routines we've gotten lazy on, and updates on future projects. Maybe some warnings about problems coming from higher up in the company.

People are, in my opinion, a bit too cynical about the meetings. It stems from people not trusting our boss, which again, I understand, because it would make so much more sense if he wasn't trustworthy. It's a testament to the man's incredibly unhealthy priorities that he is. But as we made it to the end of the meeting, one of bullet points was: 

Do NOT mess with animals in the building. 

So I looked at my techs, and they looked at me, and when he got to the point, he was so scathing I actually just wanted to crawl under a rock and die. He said basically that he'd heard some reports about someone in the building handling animals that found their way in and got stuck, and that he just wanted to emphasize how insanely inappropriate that was, not to mention dangerous, and that if he needed to speak to anyone about it again, there would be severe consequences. 

I was willing to just take the shame and move on. I was. But one of my techs is old. Old enough he could've retired two years ago. And his actual literal goal is to one day get angry, yell at someone, and storm out. That's how he wants to retire. So instead of biting his tongue like everyone else, he stood up and said: I hate the glue traps. You hate the glue traps. We all hate glue traps. But we've all sat here for years, ignoring the little things that get stuck in them, watching them die, and then Bab's comes in, and he is the first person in decades to give enough of a shit to start pulling the lizards out. And I don't want him to stop. 

Get humane traps or shut up but we are not going back to the old way of just letting things starve. 

And my boss actually froze up. He got all wide eyed and stared at Marc, and then the other techs jumped in, and there was a very small but intense rebellion in the meeting and my boss kept trying to interrupt while getting absolutely bowled over by this gang of angry middle aged air force vets, and eventually he just went 

I will speak with Babylon about this afterwards! After! And then he will speak with everyone else, but I have more points to cover. 

So they went silent, and my boss rushed through the last five minutes, and we all adjounred. The techs really didn't like that I was going in alone - they thought our boss was going to try and shout me into compliance. Marc in particular was like, Look, if he tries bullying you, stand your ground, and if he threatens anything, just come get us, and we'll give him hell. 

So armed with that, I went to my boss's office. I sat in the chair across from him, and he kept his composure for maybe five seconds before just flopping back into his chair. 

I had no idea you were saving lizards, he said, but I'm glad you are. I always hated seeing them die in the glue.  

I wasn't expecting that. I was about to ask him what the comment from the meeting was about then, but he answered that before I even got the chance.

A snake got into the building last week, and - someone picked it up and chased a coworker around. Turns out that coworker was severely afraid of snakes, and now it's a shitshow. We're a small site, and now I can't ask those two to work together anymore, to say nothing about how the snake fared after all that. Being upset about that is a reasonable thing, right? 

And he gave me a look like he actually wanted an answer, so I said Yeah, totally, chasing a coworker around with a snake is a dick move. Especially if that coworker is already afraid of snakes. 

And he said Exactly! and then we sat there a few moments longer. He looked so incredibly tired that I did, actually, feel kind of bad for him. And then he somehow managed to sink even further into his chair, and said

Look, I know I'm not a good guy. But I'm not evil. I'm not some sort of crazy asshole that's going to demand that everyone watch lizards starve to death. When you go back downstairs, could you try to pass that on? That I'm not evil? 

I said Sure because it wasn't a hard request, and he looked relieved. I actually made it halfway out before I realized I had a question. 

Who grabbed the snake? I asked. 

Not supposed to talk about it, he said. But whoever comes to mind first is probably right. 

ThatGuy? I asked. And he looked me in the face, nodded his head yes, and said No. 

---

The techs seemed a little disappointed that they didn't get to storm the boss's office, but were otherwise in good spirits. They were actually a little bit embarrassed to hear about the snake story - apparently, it wasn't much of a secret. It'd just slipped their minds because it happened three weeks ago. 

We did maintenance after that, the same basic repairs we did every week. The meeting had been stressful and it was a relief to work with my hands. When the parts were reinstalled, everything cleaned and smooth and ready to go, Marc found me again. 

You know what the lesson of today is? he asked. And there were quite a few answers to that that I could have taken - from don't assume the worst of people to be careful with how you spend your trust - we all need it more than we think. 

But instead I said what? because I wanted to hear what his answer was going to be. 

That I got your back, he said. Then he clapped one very, very large hand on my shoulder, gave it a good squeeze, and walked back to dosimetry lab.

---

The next day, Marc gave me a package and told me to open it in my office. I was suspicious, but I followed the request.

Cardboard gave way to a small baggie, obviously full of fabric, which opened to reveal a t-shirt that read

"I Am the Motherfucking Lizard King."

I looked at it, I loved it, and then I got an idea. I went to my boss's office and knocked on the door. When he opened it, I asked him if he would be willing to allow something very unprofessional to happen for morale building purposes.

How unprofessional? he asked. I held the shirt up in answer. He gave the shirt a short look over and snorted.

You can wear it on weeks without customers, he said. Which just so happened to include that week.

I'll pass on that it came with your blessing, I replied, and he looked oddly relieved.

Thanks, he said. And then I went downstairs.

---

The techs were very, very happy to see the shirt. And while my boss's reputation remains in tatters, and probably will be until he moves (or dies), the next time there was a meeting, there was quite a bit less complaining about how mere presence. Which is, I guess, a start.

We'll see if he squanders it.

[holeforzenin]

✦ Stepdad Toji fucking you in prone bone <3

Cw - Stepcest, dubcon, choking, daddy kink, age-gap, slight breeding. Don’t read if the warnings make you uncomfortable. ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱

Your face is shoved straight into the rough mattress, your lips parted into a muffled moan with drool soaking into the bedsheets below you. Toji’s got you in a tight headlock, your whole head is locked under his bulky arm like a ragdoll—while his thick cock carves into you from behind, dragging rings of cum out of your cunt with every slam of his hips.

His chest is pressing into your back—he feels so heavy and warm on top of you and it drives you even crazier with the manly scent of his sweat and faint cologne clouding your senses.

“You spread your legs like this for all your little college boys, or just for your stepdad?” he snarls, breath heavy against your ear. “Bet none of those dumb fucks pound you like this. Bet they don’t even know how to choke you out like the little slut you are while they split this little pussy open”.

You whimper with teary eyes, your hands clawing at the sheets, your brain getting mushy with every brutal thrust. His cockhead hits so deep it aches, and he knows it—he loves it. You can feel his shit-eating grin against your skin when you flutter around him in tight circles.

“Yeahhh,” he grits out, dragging his cock out slowly and having your hole clench down around nothing just to slam it back all the way in, making your ass jiggle from the force. “That’s what I thought. Nothing up in that dumb little head except my cock, huh?”

You try to answer—you really do but it comes out as a breathless choke, more drool spilling from your lips as he squeezes his beefy biceps around your neck tighter, your hands quickly flying up to claw at his muscles—making him chuckle.

“Goddamn, you’re fucking made for this shit,” he growls in your ear. “For me, heh for dad right? I mean that’s what you always call me, right? Say it”.

You shake your head and whine something incoherent and bury your face further into the mattress out of shyness.

He lets out a deep laugh. “Aww s’alright, sweet thing. Your cute pussy’s already doing all the talking for you. Look at her—slobbering all over my dick and leaking all over my sheets”.

One of his palms slides down your back and slaps your ass hard enough to make your thighs shake, then grips the fat roughly—yanking you back into his thrusts like he’s punishing you for even existing.

“You live to be used like this, don’t you?” He spits. “Crawling into my bed n’ begging with those eyes. Fuck, you better pray I don’t knock this sweet pussy up and make you raise my fucking kid”.

Your eyes roll back at his lewd suggestion, your toes curling with your legs trembling beneath his heavier ones as your orgasm builds up like a wave you can’t outrun. And he knows it—he feels it. He grunts into your ears—smearing his face into your hair as he fucks you even harder. His thrusts are so heavy that it forces your poor body deeper into the mattress from his sheer weight. His biceps flexes around your throat and the pressure of him makes your cheeks squish against his hard muscles and he just chuckles at your cute face. “Tojiiii—“

“Oh fuuuck yeah. You’re gonna cum f’me. Not for your little boyfriends, not for anyone else. Need ya to make a big mess on your stepdaddy’s cock, you hear me? Then if you’re being good enough, daddy’s gonna clean you out with his tongue”.

He then slams in deep and holds it there, grinding in slow circles and battering your cunt with his fat crownhead while your body convulses. You cry out, eyes rolling back as he just shoves your face back into the sheets and groans.

“M’done sharing. This pussy’s all mine now”.

[whatifitis]

♡ You Make Me Crazier - LN 4 ♡

Summary: this is based off this request! Lando spends most of the night playing Tarkov with Max and ends up keeping his gf awake for hours. so guess who's in a bad mood in the morning while the other is just vibing 😀

WC: 1781

CW: fluff, lando being loud (NOT IN THAT WAY PERVS), pillow tossing

Finally, the end of the season has come and the peace can begin. Lando and yourself had joined the team in celebration of Mclaren winning the constructors’. But Lando decided to leave the party quite early as he’d wanted to play some Tarkov with Max. You didn’t argue, you were pretty exhausted from such an eventful day, you were excited to hop into bed and get some much needed rest while Lando played some games. 

The two of you had arrived back in your hotel room and Lando quickly pressed a kiss to your lips before letting you know he was going to play Tarkov immediately. You watched him race to the desk with his laptop. You didn’t mind him playing video games, you knew it did him some good. Tarkov was sort of a safe place for him to forget about the real world a bit and you were grateful that he had something like that. Although, you’re not sure how he finds that game peaceful as it is one of the most stressful games you know of. It’s not like Animal Crossing where you just talk to villagers and hunt and gather. 

You got ready for bed, taking a nice shower to get rid of the smell from being out all day and partying. You think there was a bit of rose water still in your hair. Taking your time, you smile as you hear Lando’s laughter from the main room. It’s rare to hear it nowadays. 

Once you’re ready for bed, you walk over to Lando and tap him on the shoulder, “Love, I’m going to sleep now. Don’t stay up late, we have to be at the track early tomorrow for testing. And don’t be too loud, I wanna sleep a decent amount and I don’t want another noise complaint from the hotel.” you tease. 

“Alright, darling. I’ll try and keep it down and I won’t be long. Goodnight.” he says as he softly kisses you before returning to his gaming session. 

You got settled into bed and closed your eyes, ready to drift into a peaceful sleep. But the universe decided you weren’t going to sleep yet as Lando could not, for the life of him, keep it down. One second he was laughing his head off and the next he was doing some sort of accent that was a mix of German and Bulgarian? 

Slightly opening your eyes, you peer up at him and you silently scold him for being too noisy. You grab a small pillow off the bed and toss it in his direction, watching as it bounces off his back a bit. You can hear as he whispers “Guys, I think I fucked up.” before removing his headphones and turning to look at you, “I’m sorry, love. I’ll keep it down now, swear.” 

With that statement, you flop back down and sink into the bed. Thinking you’ve successfully gotten him to quiet down, until you hear him nearly wheezing from something Max said. This went on for another few hours, each minute passing you got more annoyed. But you didn’t want to say anything because you knew that these moments were hard for Lando to get and you knew he needed this time a lot. He needed to spend time with his friends and enjoy himself. He deserved it. 

So there you were, eyes dry as Oscar Piastri’s humor, mindlessly scrolling on your phone, waiting for Lando to log off for the night. You look at the clock and it was already 2 am. Your alarm was set for 7:30 am so that you could get ready and maybe eat before heading to the track. You cursed the universe and time difference, questioning what you did to deserve 5 hours of sleep. 

Finally, you heard Lando tell Max that he was done for the night and that he was logging off. 

Praise the lord. 

Lando shut his laptop and quietly got up from his seat, turning to see you still awake and on your phone. 

“I thought you were sleeping.” 

“Are you for real?” you blankly stare at him. 

“What?”

“You were still loud, Lan. I couldn’t sleep.”

“Why didn’t you tell me to shut up? More than once? You know I’m not a very good listener.” he jokes. 

“I know. But you love being able to play Tarkov and stuff with Max and them. I didn’t want to stop you from doing that.”

“Oh, baby. Next time smack me over the head. I don’t like that I kept you up for so long.” he says, walking to sit by you on the bed. 

“It’s okay, Lan. Seriously. I can still get about 5 hours of sleep.”

“That’s absolute rubbish. Why don’t you sleep in? You can meet me on the track later or you can spend the day relaxing.”

“Nah. I wanna go with you and see the car. I also wanna mock Zak cause I know he’s gonna be hungover as fuck.” you laugh. 

“Fine. But I’ll make sure you get some Celsius tomorrow, even though they don’t sponsor Mclaren! Monster does. Just make sure to cover the can if there’s cameras.”

“Thanks. Now shut up so I can sleep.” you say, rolling to sleep on your side. 

“Alright, we’ll sleep now. Goodnight, my love.”

“Goodnight, gorgeous.”

-=+=-

It was indeed not a goodnight. You woke up to your alarm blaring loudly in your ear. Your eyes felt as if they were glued shut, you couldn’t open them to turn off your alarm. After a few attempts of trying to find your phone with your eyes closed, you reached over to Lando and shoved him, “Lando, turn it off. If it keeps ringing, I’m gonna kick both you and the phone into a wall!”

“Damn, someone’s already in a bad mood.” Lando mutters as he reaches across your body to grab your phone and mute it. 

Finally, some peace and quiet. That was, until Lando’s own alarm started going off. You were already off your rocker and his alarm sent you off the edge. He was still hovering over you and setting your phone back down so you end up “accidentally” tossing him off the bed with your eyes shut. All you heard was the thud that came from his body hitting the floor. 

Lando was so thrown off. He quickly stood up with his hands on his hips as he stared down at you. “Okay, I was gonna let you off for slapping me awake and making me turn off your alarm. But that was rude! You just tossed me off the bed. Not cool, babe.”

“Your fault for keeping me up for so long. Now I’ve had about 5 hours of sleep and you’re already on my nerves.”

“Since I’m so generous, I’ll let you sleep 10 more minutes. If you don’t wake up, I’ll be rolling you off the bed.” With that, he softly kisses your head and goes and gets ready for the day. 

Lando had taken a shower and gotten dressed, so it was time to awaken the beast, aka you.

He quietly walked over to your sleeping figure and sat next to you. Gently, he places a hand on your back and slowly rubs it, letting you know it had been 15 minutes and that it was time for you to wake up. He was met with an annoyed groan and a swatting away of his hand. 

“Okay, wake up. If you don’t get up now, I’ll make sure all the Celsius and coffee are hidden from you today.” 

“You wouldn’t dare.” you side eye him. 

“Oh I would.” He smiles cheekily. 

“Piss off.” you, hitting him with a pillow, causing him to dramatically flop onto the floor. 

“Damn, you make me fall all the time. I’m so unbelievably in love with you.” he says, trying to flash you a cheeky smile but you were not having it. You got out of bed and locked yourself in the backroom so you could get ready for the day. 

After about 4 minutes, there was a knock on the bathroom door. Through muffled sounds, you could hear your boyfriend begging to be let in, “Baby, can you let me in please. I feel so lonely and bored. I want to hug you, please. Let me in, please. Let me innn, let me innnnnnn.” 

As much as he was pissing you off, you loved him too much to leave him out there alone. Plus, you were sure he was going to break something, a bone, if he’s left unsupervised for too long. Opening the door, you watched as Lando slid down the door and onto the floor. He was leaning on the door with all his weight so he didn’t land gracefully. 

“Oh would you look at that? I’ve fallen for you, again!” he laughs, still you’re not having it. 

You go back to doing your makeup in the mirror. You’re focused on your eyeliner when you feel something, Lando, grab your ankles. He pulls himself closer and wraps himself around your legs. 

“Koala mode. Oscah mode. Mark Webbah mode.”

“Off.” you try to shake him off. 

“Not until you love me again.” 

“I still love you, somehow. Get off.” you try and shake him off again. 

“Please. Please. PLEEEAAASSSEE” he squeals.

“Lan! Up.”

Almost as if he were a soldier being commanded, he jumped up to his feet. 

“I’m sorry, babe. Really, I am. I’ll make it up to you, promise.” he says, hugging you from behind and planting soft kisses on your shoulder and neck, “I shouldn’t have stayed up for so long and yelled so much. I’ll be better, I promise. Please, forgive me.” he’s gone all soft now, truly afraid he’s messed up. 

You turn in his arms to face him, “Lan, listen to me, yeah? As much as your late night gaming can annoy me, I wouldn’t change it for the world. There’s a sense of peace I feel whenever I get to hear you talk and laugh. People would claw for pieces to get that type of peace. So don’t worry. I still love you and will continue loving you. Even if it means less sleep. You still owe me a Celsius though.” you smile at him. 

His heart feels like it’s surrounded by butterflies. He loved hearing how much you love him and he’s relieved that you aren’t too mad at him. 

He softly connects your lips with his. He only feels happy and safe when he’s with you. So he thanks god everyday for you. He also thanks god for the fact that you can be bribed with Celsius.

[yzashaven]

CONTENT WARNING .ᐟ fingering ⋆ edging to overstimulation ⋆ cunnilingus ⋆ toys (vibrator) ⋆ praising + fem!reader

WORD COUNT ᯓ 0.4k

NOTE ᝰ hehe, kinich fingers... yummy

MASTERPOST

kinich is someone who is talented in bed. and by talented, i mean, very talented. he instantly knew what you liked and how you wanted it. maybe he's just that great in reading body language. kinich isn't the type to go rough or fast–harder doesn't mean better, nor does faster.

his touch is gentle, utterly delicate, as if handling fragile glass. with fingertips lightly grazing across your skin, fingers that gradually get you to orgasm just by fucking you with them deeply. especially with how he reaches your deepest parts with utmost ease.

"that's it, hold it in." he softly whispers to you while he fucks you with his fingers, his palm making contact with your clit every now and then. your legs were already shaking from the way he had been edging you the past few minutes. the prettiest moans spilling from your agape lips only driving him crazier.

"you've been so good. do you wanna cum?" you nod instantly, "go ahead. cum around my fingers like the good girl i know you are." your walls flutter around his fingers, entire body quivering as your first orgasm finally takes over you. kinich leans down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. he purposely prolonged it to leave you breathless the moment he pulled away.

you clung onto him, hands gripping his shirt tightly as you buried your face in his chest. "aww, you're fine, baby. it's okay..." more kisses were given to your cheek as he redirected his focus to your already swollen clit. to add to the current intensity, he reaches for the vibrator wand on the nightstand and turns it on, setting it to medium speed as he pressed it against your clit.

"can you cum some more for me? hm?" not even able to respond, you instead attempt to close your legs shut, using the last bit of strength you have to push his hand off—to which he obliges in giving you a few seconds of rest. and by a few seconds, his limit was less than five seconds.

kinich repositions himself to lay on his stomach between your legs. not wasting any time in darting his tongue out to feast on your dripping pussy. he combines his own mouth with the vibrator to intensify your pleasure even more. a vibrator to your clit while his tongue and fingers simultaneously fuck your hole. perfect.

[shinig6mis]

sukuna had been watching you for longer than you knew.

you were just a civilian, another nameless face in the village he terrorized, yet he found himself drawn to you in a way that should have been beneath him. it started with an interest in your unshaken demeanor when everyone else cowered before him.

you never flinched when he threw open the restaurant door, never trembled when his crimson gaze landed on you, never begged for your life like the fools who thought they could buy their safety with empty words.

even when a group of drunk men once laid hands on you, their filthy fingers grabbing at your arm, you barely reacted. but sukuna did. he tore them apart before they even realized death was upon them, their blood splattering across the wooden floor of the shop.

and you? you simply sighed, grabbed a rag, and wiped the counter as if nothing had happened.

the men who touched you, the ones who cornered you in the alley behind the shop when you threw out the trash one night, the ones who whispered filth into your ear when you passed them in the market. they would all disappear without a trace. butchered and reduced to unrecognizable carnage. the other civilians around you would whisper rumours of bandits, wild animals, or something crazier like divine punishment. but you don’t ask questions. you never question anything.

and that only makes sukuna all the more unhinged.

he’s sick with it, fascinated in a way that he hasn’t been in centuries. he wants to see how far he can push you, wants to unravel that eerie stillness you maintain, wants to rip you open just to see what’s underneath. he thinks about it constantly, mulling over it as he watches from the trees and he wonders what your expression would look like twisted in something other than apathy.

it fascinated him more than it should have. he only came down the mountain for you. his visits were unpredictable, yet you never failed to serve him, taking his orders with that same lack of fear.

so as usual, when he enters the restaurant, the air shifts, thickening with something primal. the few remaining customers flee immediately abandoning their meals in favor of escape. he doesn’t spare them a glance. his eyes are only on you. you barely acknowledge him, already moving to clear the table he’s chosen, just as you always do. the clink of ceramics against wood is the only sound between you as you wipe away the remnants of the last customer. you don’t flinch when he stretches, arms draping over the back of the chair, muscles flexing beneath his robes.

when you finally ask, “what will you be ordering this time?” in that same monotonous tone, he smiles.

“you.”

for the first time since sukuna’s met you, you finally eact. it’s subtle, but he didn’t fail to notice the way your eyes widened and lips part.

“what?” your voice is quiet.

he tilts his head, feigning impatience. “do i really need to repeat myself?”

and just like that, he’s got you where he wants you.

it’s almost frustrating, how easy it was. he wanted resistance, wanted an excuse to break you in, to drag you kicking and screaming to his domain. but unsurprsingly, you simply followed him without a single glance back at the village that never once spared you a second thought.

when he brings you to his temple, he watches you carefully and waits for the inevitable crack in your composure. but you don’t even hesitate when uraume places a bowl of human liver soup in front of you. you don’t wrinkle your nose in disgust. you even took a sip and it pisses him off.

sukuna thinks there is no way you don’t know what you’re eating, not with the way it smells and the way the rumors have undoubtedly spread through the village about his tastes.

“from now on, you’ll be living here permanently.” his voice is rough, edged with something close to frustration.

you don’t respond or even look up.

his fingers twitch against the table. his patience is razor-thin at this point. “you’re not allowed to go back to the village unless i say so. not even one foot out of this temple.”

nothing. not a single sound, not a single glance.

from then on, he makes it his mission to tear you apart.

he wants to pry you open, peel back your skin and sink his teeth into whatever it is that keeps you so eerily composed. he wants to hear you gasp, wants to see your breath hitch, wants to know the faces you’ll make when he has you squirming beneath him.

now, days had passed since he first brought you in, and you had become his. not in the way most would expect. no, you weren’t fighting or even plotting your escape. instead, you served him and obediently fulfilled every request he made. when he ordered you to bring him sake, you did. when he demanded you sit at his feet while he lounged in his temple, you did.

“more,” he ordered lazily, watching as you poured him another cup of sake. the sleeves of your simple robe slipped down your wrists as you did, and he found himself staring at the delicate skin revealed to him. he smirked, reaching out to trace a clawed finger along your arm. “you’re so obedient. almost makes me think you like serving me.”

you remained silent, but he could see the way your fingers clenched slightly against the porcelain jug. he chuckled. “what? still playing the quiet little doll?” he tilted your chin up, forcing you to look at him. “i’ve torn men apart for merely breathing in my direction, yet here you sit, perfectly intact. tell me, do you not fear me at all?”

your lips parted slightly as if you were considering his words, but you said nothing. sukuna growled, his grip tightening just enough to make you gasp. “speak.”

“i’ve never feared what i’ve already accepted,” you finally murmured.

his smirk widened. “accepted what, exactly?”

“that you’ll do whatever you want to me whenever you want.”

sukuna laughed, “smart girl.” his thumb traced your lower lip, his eyes drinking in every flicker of emotion that passed through yours. “and tell me… if i wanted to do this?”

he leaned in, his breath hot against your skin, his lips barely brushing against yours before dragging down to your throat. he didn’t miss the way your pulse quickened beneath his tongue, how your breath hitched when his teeth grazed over sensitive flesh.

“will you stay silent and let me devour you whole?”

you said nothing.

sukuna let out a dark chuckle, his fingers wrapping around your waist as he pulled you onto his lap, trapping you against the hard planes of his body. his touch was searing and possessive. his claws lightly trailed down your back, teasing the fabric of your robe loose. he let the silence stretch between you, savoring the way your breathing grew shallow and the way your body reacted despite your stubborn composure.

“i wonder how long you can keep this up.” he mused, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

his hands moved, rough and impatient, tugging at the fabric pooling around your shoulders, exposing more of your skin to the flickering candlelight of the temple. his tongue traced the line of your throat before his teeth scraped against it, not enough to break you skin, but enough to make you shudder. he smirked against your flesh, relishing in every reaction he drew from you.

“look at you,” he muttered, his hands sliding lower, gripping your hips hard enough to leave a bruise. “so fucking perfect.”

his lips found yours then, stealing the last remnants of your composure. it was anything but gentle. his tongue pressed past your lips, tasting you, devouring every muffled sound you made. he wanted more. he wanted to unravel you entirely.

his grip tightened as he ground your hips against his, letting you feel the evidence of his need for you. a low groan rumbled in his chest at the contact, his patience hanging by a fraying thread. he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark with lust and something far more dangerous.

“are you finally going to admit how much you fucking want this?”

author’s note ♪ 　 ͙ㅤ 　(՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞) been gone for so long but holyyy i’m so happy to see that sm people love my bakubro fics >_< i’ll def be posting more soon once my semester ends but thank u to all of u sososos much !!! <3

© 2025 shinig6mis | do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my work.

[fuckmeyer]

i love that the fill-in-the-blank part of Edward & Bella's honeymoon is implied to be this magical, transcendent experience despite it being a logistical nightmare

they've been traveling a minimum 24 hours with multiple stops & timezone changes. what's the next move? sleep? food? absolutely not. "let's take a midnight swim." how many braincells went into that decision? ya girl been crunched like a sardine in a plane & a boat for a billion years, & you can't give her the courtesy of a pre-sex stretch??? no pre-sex dinner??? you expect her to fuck on airline pretzels & a thimble of water??? asinine. but buckle up bc shit gets crazier

she's like "ok time to freshen up," & SHAVES HER LEGS (possibly her PUSSY??? god forbid. but it is 2006...) FOR THE 2ND TIME IN TWO DAYS. huh???? you are creating tiny cuts & opening your pores RIGHT BEFORE TAKING A DIP IN THE OCEAN. GIRL. OW. & let's hope you aren't one of the 50-80% of teens out there with keratosis pilaris bc you are about to WRECK THAT SKIN

Edward stans dni with the watsonian explanation bc I KNOW, he's taking A Dip so he can warm up & he a SCAIRT VIRGIN. READ. SIGNED. NOTARIZED. but what's next? where you gonna have sex Edward? the ocean? water washes away natural lube & creates SO much friction girl you are on the pain train to Yikesville population YOU and a STAPH INFECTION

so where to fuck? girlies may think, "sex on the beach. SO romantic." NO!!!!!!!!!!!! sand in the vag??? sand in ur BUTT??? horrible. not to mention y'all smell like fish & salt. fishy salty stank w/ your sandy ass balls slapping that freshly shaven salty-ass dried-ass puss?? bad. i rest my case yur honor

& you can't go right from ocean to bed since you make the sheets wet & fishy. which means after Dip they shower. BUT LOOK OUT: your klutzy wife could be one of 21.8 million people who sustains a nonfatal shower sex injury in a calendar year. & you STILL got water washing away Bella's arousal. you can't even finger her. so what? more foreplay? "ooh girl lemme run this sponge over you" BIG DEAL. you already did this sans sponge in the fucking ocean. she just gonna feel your abs again? NO. she gonna give you a handjob? BAD FRICTION, SEE ABOVE. & LOOK OUT, PART 2: by this point Bella is getting pruny & ALSO her skin is gonna dry out not only bc she shaved & took A Salty Dip but now she's got hot water all over her fuckin beef jerky-ass legs. where's the shea butter???? did you pack that Edward???? are you planning on moisturizing her??? bc if not she is in HELL.

time check: it's been like an hour since you got there after a day-long flight with NO nap & NO eat & you're just NOW getting to bed. it's like 1am??? & you haven't even fucked around enough to find out??? foul. since you can't even kiss w/ tongue, oral is probs off the table. ditto for Bella since Edward can literally punch a hole thru the back of her throat with his cock. so foreplay is fingering, mutual masturbation, & Smoldering Gazes ONLY. good news: Doctor Cullen Jr. knows she's gotta come before she's ready to Fuck, so that's a solid win. but lord knows ya gotta PIV or it ain't real (sighs in gay)

lbr: feminist icon Bella Swan tops. like YES i know Edward "Catholic Victorian Boy" "2008 male lead" "Great-Value James Bond" Cullen should be Thee Top doing Daddy Dom Missionary, but also, ima need Edward girlies to get a fucking grip & realize he is not capable of meeting the moment at the first go. sorry. no way Edward trusts himself enough to be the Missionary Man of your dreams. by contrast, Bella "Certified Monster Fucker" "We've Been Dating for 3 Hours When Can We Fuck" "There's a War Going On but We Should Fuck in This Tent" Swan is absolutely impaling herself on that vamp cock. & she is riding it out til the end my friends. service bottom Edward is gripping the sheets for dear life hoping his dick doesn't tear a hole through her & prolapse her fuckin critical organs. & THAT is what we call a honeymoon

[mitsua]

DO YOU SEE HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU?

synopsis: a yandere who is a crybaby tries his best to maintain you now that you were kidnapped by him, but the moment he arrives home from work you notice his eyebags, and when he hears you call for him the first time, his whole self crumbles infront of you. (4.3k) warnings: love obsession, kidnapping, anxiety, depression, anger issues, self-harm, overworking, cursing, overthinking reader's gn a/n: literally my desired type of yandere... let me know what you think about it, i love reading your opinions!

he has kidnapped you weeks ago now, and ever since then, you have not spoke for the life of you. he even tried hearing anything you might get to say when you're all alone through the cameras he had installed for your arrival at his home, but to no avail—you haven't said anything.

he knew you might be struggling—he knew you would since the beginning—he knew you would take your time to get accostumed to this new and strange life with him, but had hopelessly thought it would be quicker and softer than whatever it's happening right now.

he knew you liked to talk yourself out whenever you were alone (or thought you were), so he didn't get it how were you standing so strong on your need to not say a word.

whenever he asks if you are hungry? if you're thirsty? cold? bored? you just look at him with those dull eyes of you, which of course had given him chills on more than one ocasion now, and he doesn't like that either—but what else can he do? he's in the edge of collapsing.

he's done everything he can to finish off work as quick as possible and try to spend more time by your side and see if something could change, expecting a miracle to happen so you'd be in a better mood and maybe finally telling him a simple yes or no when he asks if its ok to cuddle that night with you. he'd end up doing it whatever you say though—but maybe, just maybe, if you do use your voice to tell him not—he'd obey. he's got that desperate nowadays.

you got him going crazy, mind spiralling so much these days he can't focus on anything but trying to remember your voice and searching—thinking of anything that might get you to talk to him.

he's begged, he feels miserable admitting it, but he's gotten on his knees and pleaded you to voice at least one of your thoughts, to insult him or tell him how angry you feel with him—but none of that ever comes. he's left in tears, facing the floor with bruised fists of so much hitting the ground in desperation.

did you know what you were doing to him? he always thought you did, because if you didn't, you wouldn't deprive yourself so much in the sake of seeing him suffer—would you? he really hopes not, he already thinks you hate him enough but not to that extent.

weeks had turned into months and he's gotten promoted on his job to a higher rank without knowing why 'cause he's been more scattered than usual—whatever, now he's gotten a higher salary, he planned on spoiling you even more. he doesn't plan on hurting you to talk to him, no no, it's the other way around—he plans on making you the happiest ever to get to see you recover to your normal self—to smile at him.

however, as this new rank had its perks, it had its drawbacks as well. he wouldn't spend much time with you anymore and that got him thinking twice about signing the papers—but as his more depressed voice on his mind told him—if you aren't talking to him now, maybe if you miss him enough you'll do, and when he goes back home with lots of presents for you, you'll change your mind about this silent treatment nightmare.

yeah. he'd take the offer.

he didn't expect the work to be as insufferable as it has come to be, he's gotta deal with lots of clients a day while going in and out of meetings with some superiors while teaching juniors how to start with the business. to say he's going even crazier would be an understatement—he's losing his sanity.

however, something peculiar about him is that he doesn't like lashing out with the first person who makes him snap, no, he's a sensible man—a crybaby. he doesn't scream his lungs out when things aren't going his way, he doesn't grab by the collar a stupid costumer nor does he slap the shit out of those who take advantage of him because of this same reasons—he just cries, cries and hurts himself as he punches the walls that protect his dignity even by being all alone and letting all his feelings flow along his tears.

so he arrives home one of this tiring and stressing days—expecting you to be locked on your shared room, hugging your knees as close as possible to do not meet him in the eye—he expected everything to be as quiet, as cold and as dark as a cave.

he's been dealing all by himself the tasks of taking care of yourself, he's prepared some meals and had ordered take out every now and then as well, he's bought you some clothing and let you choose yourself via app to order some more or even things for hobbies he knew you had before taking you captive.

he knew the routine by now, and thinking about repeating it all over again day and day didn't bother him at all as long as he had you much than now.

he's wearing himself out for some dream he knew wasn't bound to happen until you'd let it—until you love him. until you love him too.

he was pretty confident on himself before kidnapping you it'd come to happen one day or another, but having been as long as it has already been, he's not sure anymore.

you weren't showing any signs of letting your guard down, of trusting him even a bit, nothing—you just looked so empty.

or that's what he thought at least.

when he'd first taken you from away from your life you were scared, angry, anxious and mostly, sad. you couldn't comprehend your thoughts as your mind raced miles per minute with everything that was happening at once.

there was this man who had come up with you and messily but sort of sweetly confessed his love to you, a very intense one as he let see. the next second—as you told him you didn't know him so you politely rejected his feelings—he was on you putting a cloth on your mouth and nose.

when you woke up, you were on a place you had never seen and the same man appeared and gave you a welcome—with a sheepish smile and looking like a teenager in love—told you to feel comfortable around here and to not be afraid to ask for anything, that he'd provide all your needs in the blink of an eye.

you were incredulous, you couldn't believe he was so devoted to you as to know each and every one of your likings, dislikes, hobbies, prefered music, everything. maybe he even knew you better than you knew yourself—it scared you.

how were you expected to respond to all that love bombing? you were scared and sad when he'd explained you wouldn't leave the house ever again, or atleast until he deemed it possible, as he still thought you would try to escape from him—and of course you agreed on your mind.

but you were that afraid of anything he might do that your body wouldn't obey you. you wanted to scream so loud but the only thing that ever came out were tears of frustration—tears holding the deep feelings you were holding from not talking for so long with someone else—even when he's been a "gentleman" and asked you to talk to him so many times.

you just wouldn't budge, sometimes because of the anger, some others because of fear and mostly nowadays because you were giving up your life altogether.

no one has come here, to wherever this house was. when he's turned on the tv there were no reports on missing people, you didn't have your phone either so you got no messages from family members or friends asking where were you or if you were ok, you missed all of that and wish you could matter some more to all of them to have already found you. but they hadn't—they weren't really looking that deep on anything for time to have passed so slow yet so fast that it'd already been half a year and there was nothing from them.

no one cared about you—or so you thought until you saw him one day arriving to the house looking so tired, with eyebags so marked and sluggish steps going straight to the bedroom to leave his suitcase and greet you as usual with the same sheepish smile and a kiss on your forehead. you thought no one cared about you—but as he then dragged his tired body to the kitchen to get started on making your favorite dish for the nth time on the month, you weren't so sure anymore.

you were starting to trust a little bit on him, but reprimanded yourself so hard on your mind that you were left exhausted mentally everyday with your dilemma.

you needed to distract yourself, you couldn't bear that all the things you were bottling up on your throat before they could even taste the tip of your tongue would always swirl around your mind and dreams to get turned on nightmares being awake or not so often now.

so you got up from the bed one day and took tiny and doubtfull steps to the kitchen after your kidnapper had left for work—not without giving you your forehead kiss of course.

upon arriving to your today's destiny, you put on the apron he's showed many times before to you telling you he bought specially for you for when you're on the mood of joining him to help on preparing the food for the day.

a smile crossed your features without knowing. it had a design of your favorite animal on a cartoonish style printed cutely on it.

you got a look around the shelfs and the refrigerator to mentally make a list about possible recipes you could get done with everything there is.

before living whatever the hell this all has been you see—even if you weren't so doted on it—you liked cooking. trying out recipes only you could mix up and to your contentment, the majority of your dishes would end up being to your family's and friends' liking.

you got absorbed on making a specific dish that your bad thoughts were all forgotten and replaced by the thought of seeing your plate finished and the smile of your captor when seeing it.

how would he react? would he be angry? suspicious of your sudden actions? there's no poison around here so there would be no need for him to worry about anything like that though...

you admitted you would feel a bit sad if he were to talk badly about your cooking skills, but still were adamant on trying to get it done, so persevered and as the clock hit the time he was supposed to get out of work as he's told you weeks ago for his new rank, you had plated two sets of your soup and main dish along a mini dessert at the sides.

you felt anxious—your stomach wasn't as hungry as you thought when you smelled the soup cooking up minutes ago, no—you were nervous.

as some time passed and the clock hit the next hour, you decided to take a shower to hopefully get the warm water to calm your racing heart and wild butterflies in your belly.

you put on some of the clothes you've chosen and accesories he's bought you that made you feel comfortable to turn on the tv and continue watching a movie.

however, you kept glancing the clock every five minutes approximately and grew even more anxious and disappointed when it had passed two hours since he was supposed to arrive.

he's has never begged so hard for earth to just swallow him up so many times before in a day but here he was. his boss had left on unannounced vacations for a whole month and dumped all his responsibilities on him while a new course had opened for recently graduated juniors to get experience on the area, and just when he thought it couldn't get worse—an important partner of the company had demanded a meeting with the same person missing for some stupid vacation on miami now of all times.

everytime he turned around at any room there would be a new person or a colleague asking him for favors, questions he's felt he's answered hundreds of times already, to sign so many papers he's not sure he's really doing his best to keep his signature the same 'cause his hand hurts so much. his feet are aching and his headache is doing nothing but making the day feel endless.

he wants to arrive home already—he wants to go with you even if you'd just look at your arms or knees instead of him—he's one hundred percent sure that'd be better than all this chaos.

he hadn't had the time to check out on you now that he thinks about it. but just as that thought occurs, another phone rings and he has to sit on a new chat with an angry client, slowly getting so overwhelmed with it that he forgets about checking the app on his phone that had become a salvation for moments like this—where he sees your every movement around his house, even if its not that much.

and just as he had thought—the workload wouldn't let him go rest at his designated time, no, it would prolong until two more hours later of suffering. he wanted to cry so bad now.

when the last colleague had left and the company's lights finally turned off, he almost felt his soul leave his body from relief.

he tried his best to grab his things and return home as quick as possible, but his swollen feet from all the walking around offices, dizzy mind and buzzing ears made it an impossible task. he stumbled upon every stone on his path to his car, almost crashed it and could be seen sleeping on every red light.

he wanted to be with you right on that instant so badly he swore he could die happily even if that was the last thing he did.

as he parked his car and as carefully and silently as he could opened the front door to do not wake you—he let out a sigh he didn't know he was holding all the way until here, closing his arms and trying to stretch his legs for the muscles to relax now that he's in a safe space.

when he opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was the turned on tv with the netflix warning reading "are you still watching?" for when a show had ended but no movement was made after some minutes. then, his eyes instantely fell on the back of your head resting on the couch of the living room. he took more steps in in the way of your bedroom to leave his suitcase as always—but the scene before it left him astonished.

the table was set up—cutlery placed neatly and deliciously looking food put on the bowls and plain dishes it made his mouth water almost instantly, but most importantly, his heart started beating fast and his cheeks reddened. soon, his eyes let out all his frustrations from the day into salty tears and broken sobs came from his dry throat and deeply overwhelmed mind and heart.

you had prepared it. you prepared all this for the two of you. the set for the other person accross the table was untouched which meant you hadn't eaten either. you were waiting for him too—you waited for him. to eat dinner—to eat dinner together.

he felt like he died and reborn once more. he wasn't taking it easy and dropped his suitcase without thinking the noise would startle you. his hands going straight to his eyes to stop his with his waterfalls and choke down his sobs.

you woke up startled by the noise of... him crying? oh no, he'd arrived and you've fallen asleep! he's already seen the surprise but maybe he hadn't like it? you felt terrible, your stomach dropping upon seeing him desperately rubbing his eyes and crumbling on the dining room's floor.

you got up and came behind him, taking into account that because of his loud crying he hadnt' noticed you. you got worried for him—just as you got worried all those times ago when he'd cry and beg for you to talk and look at him—you didn't like seeing him cry, but he wouldn't stop.

so you spoke.

"hey," something as simple as that but you did it. something you hadn't done for the almost seven months you've been trapped with someone you barely knew but had told you he'd fallen deeply in love with you—with someone who'd spent everyday since then showing you—his in fact—endless love for you.

he stopped his crying immediately, shoulders tensing and mind short-circuiting. did you just—did you just talk to him?

"i-i'm sorry if it's not of your liking, i-i just-i just thought about making dinner but never really asked for permission-i'm-i'm so sorry"—you rambled, now that you started speaking you couldn't really stop yourself anymore.

your mind now freely spoke everything it came to it, forgetting about the overthinking you did about the right moments or right words—you just did it.

he wasn't really reacting. how could he? he didn't know what to do or say—many things he's dreamed of had happened in the spawn of five minutes since he's arrived.

he turned slowly to face you, the light hitting him from the back didn't let his swollen red eyes and runny nose from all the crying be seen easily—but you could see his form shivering—he's holding his tears back now. just as you got surprised by the sudden recover of your voice, he also was.

so you spoke up again, but this time with your actions.

you took some steps closer to him—coming face to face with his chest as he was a lot taller than you—and wrapped your arms around him.

you were doing anything before thinking further on it, really. he started crying even harder this time. almost making you retract yourself but you didn't—you didn't want to let go.

he's proved you he would mantain you—he's given you some kind of freedom under his roof and brought you so many things that on your previous lifestyle you could only dream of. he's talked for the two of you all this time you were deprived of it—even if he felt bad about it—he never hurt you or said bad things to you. he encouraged you to, he really demonstrated he did all of what he did because of love.

and you've fallen for it.

now that he had everything he's asked for he couldn't react as he thought he would. he thought that whenever it was that you would hug him first, he'd instantely reciprocate the affection and drown you whole on it. he'd smother you with tons of kisses and tell you so many cheesy lines even he'd feel grossed out from them, but he wouldn't care 'cause you wouldn't care either, you'd be happy—happy together.

after some minutes of you holding him together on your arms as he sobbed out uncomprehensible lines and looked at you through blurry eyes, you ended the hug and unconsciously moved your hands to take place on both of his cheeks so sweetly—so carefully as he if he's made of porcelain—and stared into his eyes so deeply his knees got weak, your eyes were full of love—they were screaming it—he could hear it.

you've fallen for him—you've really done it.

you looked from his wide-puppy-like eyes to his lips as if asking permission for sealing this silent promise of eternal love you've sentenced upon the two of you since you hugged him.

he nodded his head a little and sucked in a breath as if preparing for what's to come. you reached closer—neither closing your eyes just yet until you connected your lips with his.

it felt as if the world stopped for seconds—it felt right—so damn right. he finally got rid of his frozen posture and placed one of his hands on behind your head and the other on your hips to pull you closer, while you focused on laying all your emotions for him on that kiss—that special and never-forgettable moment you'd just share.

you lasted some seconds more until he pulled away to look at you in the eye, look at you already looking at him—not like all those times in the past when he'd have to search for your eyes—you shared the same warmth as he's shared for you all this time until now, for him.

"i love you so much," his mouth let out, reciting it out in the open once again as he's done for so many nights on the past even if you didn't tell him anything.

but to his surprise, today you'd decided to reciprocate it. "i love you too."

four words, eleven vocal tones united to form four words that all come together meaning such a common yet powerful feeling humans feel for another—another human or thing, moment or memory—this being confessed only when seem proper, mostly when two people mean it, not without a risk of course—risk of losing it all but said with the confidence of it not happening. said with the hope it won't—hoping this love would flourish into something deeper and comfortable in many forms, the forms of a house, a family—an eternity together.

four words that made him remember why he's loved you so much and felt all his time spent on you was worth every single second.

"i'm so happy with you, i-i love you," he repeated, this time taking your hands on his bigger ones, and his smile so big that his teeth were showing and eyes almost closing resembling that of a child getting the latest toy they wanted.

you squeezed softly and started to walk without letting go, to the table—only doing so when you went to take out the chair for him to have a seat and gently indicating him so, picking up the cold plates and going to warm them up in the microwave.

he's eyes never left your form—just as when he'd watch you while doing paperwork through the cameras—he was and would always be infatuated with you. he felt so blessed in that moment and thanked whatever came to his mind for what was happening.

as much as he'd like to help you out right now—he just felt so tired and so enraptured with your movements that he stayed still until you returned with the food and placed it down again on its place, smiling softly at him and taking a seat too.

he took the first bite, already thinking it would taste delicious if it came from you, savoring it he noticed how wrong he was—it tasted heavenly. his face relaxed and he started eating faster, devoring everything as his now more than empty stomach begged for some food after the long hours he's spent without eating.

you took it as a good sign and felt relieved—finally digging in—you both finished fairly quickly and as you were about to wash the dishes, he came behind you saying, "let me get those done, you've already cooked for the both of us, it's the least i can do."

"no, you've just come from working, and if i decided to cook then i'm in charge of cleaning them too." you defended, taking the gloves and almost putting them on before he negotiated, "then what about doing them tomorrow, i'm so tired right now i'd like to just hug you all night." he smirked after seeing you ponder for a bit, he got you.

"fine... i'll-i''ll wake up early to clean them before you even think of doing so!" you claimed, taking off the gloves and tangling your arm around his, both of you walking to the bedroom.

"i'll undo the bed, you can go change," you offered, going up to it and starting to place the decorative pillows on the armchair next to the desk in the bedroom—where he'd often spend restless nights firstly figuring out his plan to get you, and when he'd gotten you—nights planning out how to get you to fall for him, now he's watching you place those pillows yourself, undoing the bed and taking place on it as if you were already a married couple.

he changed to his pajamas carelessly, tossing his uniform on his wardrobe and shoes long-forgotten somewhere on the carpeted floor of the dressing room that covered the whole bedroom as well.

he then let himself fall on the bed, arms looking out immediately for your body and wrapped gently yet tightly around you, taking a deep breath on the side of your neck and letting all his worries vanish from his mind by having you all to himself like this.

"good night," you whispered, hands going to play with his hair and caressing it softly as if petting a cat, he felt like he'd most definitely end up purring too.

"good night, my love."

PT. 2 HERE

here's my yandere OC's m.list if you wanna read more! remember you can ask to be tagged at any of the fandoms i write for ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

[traveler-at-heart]

Run, baby, run

Summary: Natasha is very competitive, and that includes your daughter.

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Based on some real life events lol

Natasha was a lot of different things for many people. Depending on who you ask -friends, foes, family- she could be stubborn, deadly, relentless. To you she was kind, loving and supportive, in a way that no one else knew.

You would all agree on one thing, though.

Natasha was too competitive.

Being married for three years, you’d grown used to it. As a matter of fact, it could be entertaining especially if she was playing pool or darts against the boys.

But this morning, when she shows you the flyer, you actually have to look twice, sure that Natasha lost her mind.

“Baby crawl race?”

“Yeah, only for babies under one year. You know, they set a track and time them…”

“I mean, I figured. I just… why would we want Anya to do that?”

Your daughter perks up when she hears her name being called and you both smile.

Anya is ten months old, but she’s way advanced for her age. It must be Natasha’s genes, because you’re sure that before she turns one, she will be walking or even running after her other mother.

“It sounds fun”

“And winning has nothing to do with it?” you press, reading about the prizes. “Everything listed here are things we already have. A stroller, a crib… ooh, a formula machine, fancy”

“We can still register if we leave now” Natasha picks up Anya from her playpen, and the sight of their matching red hair melts your heart as usual.

“Fine. We better get going”

—

To your surprise, there are over a dozen babies registered to compete. Natasha takes care of everything as you walk around the store where they’re hosting the event.

She comes back with a smile and a little paper with the number 17 on it.

“Your lucky number” she smiles at you, taking Anya in her arms.

You both watch as other kinds play and stumble around the mat. Most of them seem younger than your daughter, and only a few look close to being one year.

“That one’s gonna be easy to beat” Natasha muses, looking at a small kid that can barely sit.

“Natalia” you slap her arm. “He’s a baby”

“No. They are all competition. And we have no mercy, right, detka?” Natasha insists, bouncing your daughter in her arms.

“Alright, I’m changing her diaper before everything gets crazier” you decide, noticing how there’s a crowd forming around the place where the kids will crawl.

You make small talk with some of the clerks, who seem excited at the prospect of a silly race that will entertain them in the middle of their shift.

By the time you return, Natasha’s quiet, looking at the parents and their children.

“Everything ok?”

“Perfect” she nods, taking Anya in her arms. “Now, kiddo, listen to me, we are Romanoffs. We are fighters and more importantly, winners. So go and make us proud”

Anya responds by giggling and pulling a strand of her mother’s hair. Natasha smiles, saying something in Russian and kissing Anya’s cheek.

The mat is split in half so only two kids can compete at the same time, a screen with a timer behind them.

As expected, some of the kids get distracted by their race mate or crawl around instead of going in a straight line.

“What did I tell you? We’re gonna crush the opponents” Natasha whispers and you slap her arm.

She’s taking this way too seriously.

As you stand next to some parents, Natasha sniffs around, speaking into Anya’s back.

“Baby, did you go potty?”

“I don’t think so” you know Anya frowns and makes a little grunt when she does number two and she’s been pretty quiet this whole time.

“Oh, never mind” she turns to the parents standing next to you. “Not ours, detka”

The parents hurry to the bathroom. There’s a nagging feeling at the back of your mind when you notice how quiet Natasha is. It increases when the parents miss the race because they were stuck chaning a diaper.

Your wife tries to hide her smile, but there’s no way she planned this. Just a coincidence.

Right?

“Babies 10 and 11” the organizer calls. You noticed the girl is older than the other kids, standing out because she can close the distance faster.

“Best time has been 55 seconds. This should be interesting” Natasha comments.

Sure enough, the kid is about to finish when a bright blue ball crosses her path, getting her distracted and making her return to the start line.

The parents try to guide her back but it doesn’t work at all.

“Oh, well”

“Try not to look so happy about it” you whisper, but Natasha just chuckles and places a kiss in your temple.

After a few more minutes, it’s Anya’s turn. You carry her to the start line and Natasha kneels at the end of the mat, keeping her eyes focused on your daughter.

“Three, two, one. Go!”

All Natasha has to do is place her open palm on the mat. Anya’s seen her do it so many times and knows it means one thing: as soon as she touches her mama’s hand, she’ll throw her in the air the way she loves to.

It takes Anya 15 seconds to get to Natasha. Your wife rewards her with her favorite thing, and if it were anyone less graceful and quick, you’d be unnerved by the sight of your daughter kicking her feet while being lifted off the ground.

“Nicely done, pumpkin” you join them, smiling as Anya jumps to your arms.

“A worthy adversary, at last” a man comments as he takes his son to the race. “Let’s see if we can do it better than you”

“Doubt it” Natasha glares but you elbow her, smiling at the man.

“She meant to say, good luck. You’ll do great, sweetheart” you smile at his son, who waves back at you with wide eyes. He’s incredibly cute.

“Fraternizing with the enemy” Natasha tsks.

“He’s a baby, Nat”

“I didn’t like the way the father was looking at you either” Natasha grumbles, leaning forward to kiss you.

Definitely not complaining about her competitive streak now.

As your declared enemy gets ready to race, the father frantically looks around for something lost on their backpack.

“Did you bring it?” his wife insists.

“Yes! The purple elephant! We were playing with it a second ago!”

Apparently, that was their only resource, because the timer starts and their kid is focusing on everything but them.

They manage to finish after two minutes.

“Better luck next time” Natasha comments as they leave, her hand going around your waist.

She’s being so ridiculous but somehow you love it.

The winners are announced, and you cheer when the first place goes to none other than Anya Romanoff.

“Yes, baby. We are the champions” Natasha sings, bouncing her around. Anya has no idea what’s happening, but she’s enjoying the moment.

“Very nice” you comment when the organizers hand you the prize. “Good work, Anya. Keep it up and maybe we won’t have to pay for college”

“Of course she’ll get a scholarship. Or become a professional athlete. Or become president” Natasha says, walking back to the car.

“Oh, those are a lot of things. Maybe she’ll want to focus on just one”

“Nah, she’s got it. She’ll do it all” Natasha kisses Anya’s head and you can’t help but melt.

“Best thing you ever won?” you ask Natasha as you drive back home.

“No, that would be you” she says. “Of course, I mean the bet I made with Tony that I’d get you to date me over him”

“Ugh, you’re so ridiculous” you roll your eyes.

—

The excitement of the race exhausts your daughter, and she’s fast asleep by the time you get home.

You know this won’t last long, so you prepare her clothes to run a bath once she’s up.

As you’re going through her bag, you pull out a toy that’s definitely not Anya’s.

A purple elephant.

“Natalia Alianovna Romanova!” you shout, looking for her.

“Oh-oh” Natasha mutters and clears her throat. “Yes, dear?”

“You took that baby’s toy!”

“I did not! Ok, I did. But look, I timed him when they were practising and Anya’s time was still better. I just really didn’t like the way he was staring at your boobs”

“Mhm, right. Winning was just a plus”

“See? You get me”

“That ball that distracted the other kid was not a mistake either, huh?”

“I don’t know what you mean, darling”

“And the parents that missed the race for changing the diaper?”

“Now, that was just a happy coincidence. The rest, yeah. Totally me”

“Evil! Stealing a toy from a toddler” you wave the purple elephant in her face. Natasha takes it and throws it over her shoulder, wrapping your legs around her waist in a swift motion. “What are you doing?”

“I got you that fancy formula machine, didn’t I? Where’s my prize?”

You laugh against her lips, but it soon turns into a moan, as you feel Natasha’s hands slide down your back to cup your ass.

“Anya's gonna wake up in thirty minutes or less. Can you handle that?”

“I do enjoy a good challenge” Natasha says against your lips, showing you how much she loves to win.

And honestly? After a mind blowing orgasm, you love it too.

[livinghalfway]

Younger Years Pt. 4

Masterlist

Summary: Damian gets temp de-aged to 6yrs old; cue him asking where his twin is. This is how everyone finds out about Danny's existence Word Count: 2088

Explaining to them what Talia had said did not make the situation any better. While her information had been helpful it wasn’t nearly enough to calm the storm that raged in them. If anything caused the winds to roar even stronger. They had to know what happened in that room, and the only one that knew was currently 6 years old. Which meant everyone would just have to wait; something this family was never good at especially when it came to personal matters. 

“Talia doesn’t know what really happened to Danyal. Ra’s could have just lied to her, and made Damian swear to never tell her the truth. We all know how much he idolized that man. It would have been easy for Ra’s to convince him it was for the best.” Tim suggests as he types hurriedly at the computer. 

“If Talia thought for a second that he had done something like that it would have come to light by now.” Bruce counters, “Ra’s would still have needed help getting Danyal out of Nanda Parbat, and one of them would have most definitely let it slip to Talia if he had done that.” 

“Which is why Ra’s would have everyone involved killed before they could have done so.” 

“Tim-”

“Crazier things have happened Bruce; multiple people in this family have come back. Why not Danyal?” Tim looks away from the screen for but a second as he interrupts Bruce before focusing back on the screen. A clear sign that he doesn’t want to continue talking about this. 

Bruce leaves Tim to continue his investigation; a part of him hoping that Tim is right. He could never admit that though. It would just be that much more crushing if proven wrong. So he turns attention to Dick, who is still near the med bay ready to rush in if need be.  

“Chum, why don’t you take a rest? Damian is perfectly fine right now, and you look like you need a break.” 

He knew that the reveal of Danyal’s death would hit Dick partially hard as someone who was very protective of his younger siblings. It wouldn’t matter to him that Danyal died before he even knew of his existence. Bruce expected Dick to be consumed with sadness right now. He wasn’t though he was overcome with fury. 

“A rest Bruce? We all just found out that Damian’s twin is dead; that Ra’s did something to make sure Damian wouldn’t tell anyone. And you want me to take a rest?” Dick eyes burned into him as he spoke. “I’ll take a rest once I know what that psychotic old man did.” 

Bruce knows Dick well enough to read between the lines of what his son is saying. He’s angry at Ra’s, yes, but Dick’s angry at himself too. He’s probably wondering why Damian never felt comfortable enough to mention such a big part of himself to them. 

“And we’ll make sure Damian knows that whatever Ra’s said or did was wrong, but you look exhausted right now. At least let me bring a chair over here for you to sit in.” Bruce calmly states to his eldest son. 

It looks like his words haven’t calmed Dick in the slightest, but before he can speak up again a chair is being pulled up next to Dick by Jason. “Jesus Christ Dick, just sit down already. And that’s me agreeing with B on something so you should know that it's not just the old man saying some b.s.” 

It doesn’t take much for Jason to force Dick to take a seat; one hard shoulder shove and he was collapsing into the chair. After which Jason pulls his own chair up next to him. “I’m gonna need you to put an end to this little pity party in the corner, Dickiebird.” 

“I’m allowed to be upset, Jason. We just found out that our brother is dead, and I should have been able to do something. 

“You think I don’t get that? The only difference between us right now though is that I was there; I could have done something to save the kid if I had known.” 

“Jaylad-” 

“No Bruce, if Dick here wants to blame himself for not doing something then he can blame me too.” Jason gives Dick an annoyed look then turns his head towards Bruce, “You’re free to get out of here old man. Can’t believe I’m the one that’s gotta talk some sense into Dick here.” 

He really doesn’t want to leave this conversation where it’s currently at, but when Dick gives him a nod he knows that he should withdraw. Bruce does make a mental note to ask about how the discussion went later; for now though he’ll do as they want.

So for now he moves on to check on his final son, Duke, before doing so though Bruce stops by his office once more for a moment to just sit and think. Once there it doesn’t take long before he is reaching into the bottom drawer where he keeps a bottle of whiskey hidden away. When he doesn’t feel it though Bruce knows that Alfred must have taken it. 

Of course Alfred knew he had it; that man knows everything that goes on here. 

It’s for the best that it’s gone anyhow he doesn’t need to be repeating past habits from when he lost Jason. That’s the last thing this family needs right now; not when there are still so many questions that need answers. 

In the end it’s Duke who seeks him out first. A mere 10 minutes goes by where Bruce is sitting in silence before a few light knocks echo against the walls around him. After announcing that the person knocking entrance Duke almost hesitantly approaches him. His habit of always tapping his fingers on whatever he was holding a dead give away for how nervous his son must be feeling right now. 

“Hey B,” Duke started, “everyone seems to be going through it right now huh?”

“It would appear so. What about you chum? How are you doing with all this?”

“I’m … not fine, but I know that that’s ok; I don’t think anyone wouldn’t be somewhat affected by the recent news. I actually wanted to talk to you about something else though if that’s ok.” 

Bruce takes a quick steady breath preparing himself for whatever this conversation may bring. “Of course, what did you want to talk about?”

“About what’s going to happen afterwards; when we find out the truth from Damian. Because- If Danyal is … dead then I think asking Damian about who Danyal was as a person, and setting up a memorial of sorts might help everyone with their grief.” 

“That,” his throat feels tight, “that sounds like a wonderful idea, Duke. I’m sure Damian- everyone would appreciate having a setup for Danyal in the manor.” 

Duke seems satisfied with his answer, and with a small smile makes his way out of the office. Before he leaves though he says one last thing, “I’d also make time to call Cass and Steph to give them an update on this before they get home.” 

After that the silence once more takes control of the room while Bruce thinks about the what if’s and the could have been. 

He’s not sure what the future holds for them now, but Bruce does know that whatever comes they’ll deal with it; together. That means he can’t keep sitting here in sorrow; he can’t fall apart again. 

“It’s time to get to work,” is his last thought as he leaves to make his way back to the cave. 

-

The rest of the day seems to go by in a blur, and not in a good way. Damian spits fire anytime anyone steps into his room. He has only willingly allowed Alfred inside to deliver food to him, and even that was met with cautious anger. 

At the very least Damian isn’t trying to escape; some piece of evidence they showed him must have convinced him that what they were saying was the truth. That conclusion is a double edge sword though as now Damian for sure knows that Danyal is gone. Why else would his brother not be here?

Red Hood and Red Robin are the only ones that go on patrol when the time comes. Dick refuses to leave his station at the med bay door knowing that Damian could be transferring back to himself any time now, and Bruce doesn’t want to leave him by himself if that does happen tonight. The two don’t talk much while alone in the cave, but Dick does allow Bruce to momentarily take his place at the door while he takes a moment to refresh himself. 

While it doesn’t actually happen that night the family is definitely in for a surprise when they check in on Damian the next morning, and find the now normal 14 year old boy asleep on the bed. 

Everyone had to hold Dick back so that he wouldn’t wake him up, and in the end it was Alfred who finally managed to convince him to let Damian rest without interruptions. Unfortunately for the sleeping child though this only gives the rest of the family more time to think about what they’re going to ask, and heaven knows he already has a lot to answer for.

-

Damian feels himself slowly waking; his body feels stiff and slow when he attempts to sit up, but otherwise fine. He knows he must be in the med bay since the last thing he remembers was being on patrol with Nightwing and encountering a blinding light. 

When enough of his strength finally returns to him he cracks his eyes open to see his father and brothers all looking at him with varying degrees of concern. Whatever happened must have been a lot bigger than he had originally thought if they are all here with him.  

Slowly he rubs a hand across his face and groans out to everyone in the room, “What happened?” 

No one says anything for a few beats. In fact they all seem to avoid meeting his eyes entirely. Eventually though his father clears his throat before speaking in a voice far too soft and gentle, “Well chum, you got hit with a spell while on patrol. It- It reverted you back to your 6 year old self.”

Oh. 

Oh no. 

That was probably the worst thing he could have been told right now as Damian thinks back to what he was like at that age; to who had been by his side since birth. There is absolutely no way that his long gone other half wasn’t mentioned, or brought up in however long he was in his younger state. 

“I’m frankly surprised to see you all still standing. I was very dedicated to the league at that age.” He’s not going to admit to anything just in case he is wrong though. Danyal is not someone who Damian is ready to speak about. His twin, his brother, and his biggest regret; he’ll never forgive himself for being so brainwashed by Ra’s that he allowed Danyal’s death that day. That he was prepared to do it himself because the older man said it was for the best. 

“You did manage to break Jason's nose!” Duke lightly chuckles as the mentioned man throws a glare, but otherwise remains silent. Followed by more deafening silence from everyone else. 

Dick is the one that finally brings up the elephant in the room, “Dami … who’s Danyal?”

Why did he have to be right about them knowing? Ready or not it seems the truth about Danyal was coming to light it seems. “Danyal was my twin; the other half- the better half of me. I understand that now.”

His eldest brother gently grabs his hand, and holds it in a firm embrace of comfort. He’ll allow it for now. “And what happened to him?” 

Damian can’t keep his past hidden anymore, and Danyal deserves to have his story told. “When we were 10 Gran- Ra’s took Danyal and I away from our studies early one afternoon. He said that he had a couple lessons of his own that he wanted to teach us personally.” 

For one it was a life lesson, and for the other a death sentence. 

… 4 years ago …

“Damian, Danyal, come. You two are about to learn what it truly means to be an Al Ghul.”

[007reid]

187. spencer reid (18+)

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: you're dealing with a dumb, whiny boy and you are wondering where your boy genius went.

warnings: 18+, sub!spencer & dom!reader, dumbification, whining, whimpering, overstimulation, handjob, orgasm denial, begging..you know the rest ;)

a/n: this is a result of too much ai spencer tiktok edits....wrote in a rush on my phone late at night but that's how fanfiction are meant to be written. enjoy angels <3 requests are open if anyone want to drop by!

“okay spencer, this is an easy one. can you answer it for me baby?" you pause expectantly, and it takes him a while, but spencer only mewls in response, frustrated. "what states are next to louisiana?”

you see spencer’s eyebrows slowly pent up in thought but then he immediately gives up in lieu of letting out another pathetic moan, bucking up uselessly to your fingers. “answer the question baby," you prod sweetly, kissing your words into his cheek.

“i-hnfgg…” he pants breathlessly, eyes shut tight and when they flutter open, they are round with plead. “please, it hurts so bad, please let me cum i—“

you let go of his cock entirely and he whines, trying to shuffle closer so that you would touch him. in response you move away further, smirk at your lips. “be a good boy for me and i will.”

“i am being a good boy for you!” spencer whines, his eyes blown with need and watering, body writhing pathetically against the sheets. his dick is flushed an angry red and you know he’s only several strokes away from coming undone, being so closely attuned to your boy. “i’m being good i—“ his words hitched in his throat as you gently caress only the tip of his cock, teasing.

“the good boy i remember is super smart,” you slide up to him, pressing a leering kiss on his jaw. “the guy has an iq of 187. can you believe that? how rare is that?”

spencer doesn’t answer, his pleas and whines soft and stuck in his throat as he keeps trying to buck up his hips to get more of your touch, but with no avail. “hm? how rare is it spence?”

“i don’t know!” he cries, tears leaking and wetting his pretty lashes. “i—please it hurts so bad, just please let me cum i’ll do anything, please!”

“answer me and i’ll let you cum baby boy,” you say smoothly, removing your hand from him (which elicited a very impatient groan) to spit on your palm before going back again, moving your hand up and down his shaft deliberately slow. you know it drives him crazy, even crazier than he is right now and you soak in the satisfaction of it. “how many people has your kind of genius spence? hm?" you add encouragingly. "get this one right for me and i’ll let you cum baby.”

“i…uhh….” he's slow, and even slower with your hand working and overstimulating his already-sensitive cock. “one out of every hundred million people. 1000 who ever lived,” he finally decides to peel open his eyes again, searching your face for any hint of approval. as a response you flick up your wrist quickly and he nods his head back, an obscene and needy moan coming out of his mouth.

“and the states surrounding louisiana?”

his head snaps back immediately and stares at you in betrayal, like a kid being scammed out of his cookie, completely flustered and debauched. “you said one question!”

“i changed my mind baby,” you soothe, pressing an apology kiss in the corner of his mouth. “the faster you are the faster you get to cum. do you want to cum honey?”

“yes! yes i wanna cum so bad,” he cries, hands coming up to rest lightly at your waist and you can feel the tremble in them. the heavy feeling at the pit of his stomach has been there for at least half an hour now and you’ve just been toying with it, reliving it then bringing the pressure back. now he’s an absolute mess, curly hair sprayed on the pillow and stuck to his forehead, his pretty, delicate face ruined with tear stains, but it just makes him prettier. he’s completely at your mercy, writhing and whimpering and begging you to do something about his looming orgasm and you denying him of it.

“then answer the question baby boy,” you murmur encouragingly in his ear, fingers still teasing him. he’s so sensitive and overstimulated to the point that a single touch can make his entire body jump, so you are careful. too much and he might actually loose it, and you both know this. “you remember it, right spence?” you press, "the question?"

“hnngg,” he whimpers when you start biting on the lobe of his ear, grabbing and squeezing onto the sheets for dear life. “umm…arkansas and… i-i don’t know,” he admits shamefully, then desperately tries to make up for it. “but i got the first one! you said if i get it i could cum. i’ve been such a good boy for you, just this one time, please!” he begs, not in control of what he says anymore and it shows. he’s completely delirious and fucked stupid, and you take pity on him.

“aww, my sweet boy,” you coo sweetly, running your fingers through his messy mop of hair and pulling it away from his face for him. “i’m sorry angel, but if you can’t get it right, you don’t get to cum,” you whisper faux apologetically in his ear. you see when spencer’s eyes widen with horror, and the tears begins to fall freely.

“please,” he begs, his fingers pleadingly reaching out to try to touch you, convince you to change your mind. it’s a foolish and naive attempt, and he knows it too but can’t help taking his chances. he’s desperate for anything. “please, i’ll be so good for you. i’ll be your best boy. i promise. i swear. it hurts so bad y/n please, i cant take it—“

“fine,” you give in, only because you know for a fact that he can't last any longer. really, you're surprised he's managed to make it this long so far; you had already planned his punishment in your mind. your boy deserves his reward.

you speed up your movements and the sounds coming out of his mouth becomes wanton, sobs becomes louder and his whines a pitch higher and he’s strung high like a violin string, ready to snap. “cum for me, pretty boy.”

at your command his body gives out obediently, thick strings of cum spitting out of his cock, painting your hand and his hips, coating at his thighs. he twitches and his thighs tremble weakly as small blurts of cum starts to collect at the tip of his cock and you kiss him during all of it as he cries against your lips. he pants hard, and when you accidentally swipe a finger over him, he whines painfully and inches out the way, sore. when it’s over, he collapses into you, spent.

“thank you,” he says, sounding genuinely grateful, his voice muffled and his face buried in your shoulder. you laugh, fingers smoothing out the mess of his hair, pulling his head back and pressing kisses all over his face. spencer needs the aftercare, especially after being edged on for so long, needs the love and the assurance and the cuddles afterwards. "i love you."

"and i you," you say, smiling when he whines predictably, unsatisfied.

"you gotta say the whole thing," he says, looking mildly upset, lips jutting out and giving you the fattest, most foul and adorable pout, eyes big and searching.

"'m sorry," you weave your fingers with his, and he presses a kiss against your knuckles. "i love you."

[dominicfikeenthusiast]

15 MINUTES / MATT STURNIOLO

“show me how much you care, touch me and pull my hair”

matt’s cold hands attached to the back of your neck. his soft kisses more rougher each moment passed. in the one moment his lips were off yours he whispered, “cant do this anymore, need you bad, need you now.”

after driving all night, matt pulled over to a secluded forest area telling you he needed a break. you didn’t question it, assuming he was just tired. as you make out with your boyfriend, you realize he did need a break, just not for the reason you thought.

matt’s hand move to your waist moving your body closer. a small gasp leaves your mouth as he lifted your body to straddle him. matt’s lips found his way to your neck, leaving harsh kisses on your jawline.

“fuck, so pretty like this huh?” matt hums in your ear. fuck even his voice has you wild. you could feel the neediness radiate off of him, his kisses becoming more urgent. you slightly adjust your hips just enough to get a reaction from matt.

“mm shit, driving me fucking crazy right now” he whispers again. matt’s hands creep underneath your hoodie, his fingers run up and down your sides. your hips involuntarily grind onto matt’s again. his clothed bulge rubbed against you, causing a small moan to exit your mouth.

matt doesn’t respond with his normal flirt or teasing. he just flashes you a quick smile before swiftly taking his & your hoodie off. his mouth moves to the newly revealed skin. “yeah, need you so bad baby” matt hums.

your fingers move to waistband on his sweatpants, tugging them. matt bucked his hips upwards just enough so you could slip them off. as he took off your pj bottoms.

leaving him in just his boxers, you in your little lacey underwear. matt wasted no time, his fingers gliding against the thin material covering your cunt. “so wet f’me already huh?”he whisper his fingers pressing against your clit. “matt” you moan. “i know baby, take these pretty underwear off f’me yeah?” he whispered. lifting you off his body as he slid his boxers off as well. revealing his throbbing cock covered in pre-cum.

you readjusted yourself on top of him, just enough so you could feel his tip glide against you. matt let out a small hiss, throwing his head back. you gripped onto matt’s shoulders for support, his hands holding onto your hips.

you lowered onto him slowly. “fuck” you moan out, feeling him getting deeper inside you. “yeah, take me so good” matt mutters under his breath. his hands guide your hips lower each time, taking more of him with each thrust. “shit, just like that” matt hisses.

you pick up the pace little by little eventually getting much faster. causing the only noise in the car to be skin slapping and loud moans. you bounce on his dick messily. unable to even string together full sentences anymore. you can feel his fingers dig into your hips, enough to leave visible red marks.

“fuck- baby- mm gonna” matt moans out. every noise you made him drove him closer and closer to edge. he could feel you tug his hair, as you bounced on his dick and that made him crazier.

you also felt that very familiar feeling in your lower stomach. “fuck matt!” you scream out as your orgasm travels through your body.

matt was at his very edge, you releasing was enough for him to let go as well. “shit-“ matt’s quickly interrupted by himself. a loud groan leaving his mouth as he fills you up.

your body falls onto matt’s chest almost immediately after. as both of you recover from the high. “oh my god” you mumble out quietly, a bit shocked at just what happened. matt lets out a small snicker in response.

his hands move up to rub your back softly, your breath slowly getting back to normal. “your fucking perfect” he mumbles, his voice quiet but raspy. “so lucky your all mine” matt hums quietly. his hand tracing small circles on your skin. “never forget, i made you mine, alright?” he whispers again.

you set a gentle kiss on matt’s collarbone in response. his heart slightly aching at that small action. you lay there for what feels like eternity. you take in your surroundings. the foggy windows. the dim lighting. the occasional soft breathing. your bodies skin-skin. it was all just perfect.

·:*¨༺ ♱ ੈ‧₊˚ ✮ ੈ‧₊˚ ♱ ༻¨*:·

𝜗𝜚 - ps. CAR SEX RAHHHH!! also this is the first time i’ve written smut, so lemme know how we feel abt this 😭😭

𝜗𝜚 - tags : @bells-sturn @sturnxies @iheartmattsbeard @chrislilcumslvt @mattsmiddlepartt @chrissv4mp @flouvela @chrisfavoritewhore @luckystarlogs @anastasia-ac3rr3 @submattenthusiast @s7attr @jassturn @liasturniolo @milaatyourworst @chris-hallelujah @y3sterdaysproblem @jetaimevous @xoxo4chrisss @mattsd0ll @mattslverr @clairomatt @maggot3647 @izzylovesmatt @kennastromboli @allineedismatt @ayesha-eroticaa @allisonclairee @ariana2saucyy @matttsangel @valxrieq @slxtarchive @2prcntmilkluvr @heartz4matt @sturnioloslutttt4 @forgottxen @le4hsblog @sturninsworld @reenasturniolo @x0x0bunny @muwapsturniolo @ifwdominicfike @snowysosturn @chrispleasure @chrissturnzbabymomma

[junityy]

🕸 — stay.

pairing. spider-man!jake x fem!reader genre. fluff, slight angst, slightly suggestive?? wc. 2k warnings. for context, this is the #infamous scene in the amazing spiderman 1 when peter shows up hurt at gwens window!! and yes im including the lizard LMAO and jake is kinda down Bad note. THIS TURNED OUT SO LONG.... and also NOT how i wanted but erm well.. spiderman jake is truly all i can think about so i hope you enjoy!!!

You were just finishing up your chemistry homework when Jake leaned against your window frame outside, and lightly knocked against your window. By now, this had become a routine-like thing, so you didn't even flinch.

The first time he did that, though, you felt slightly creeped out before letting him in regardless - because, after all, you do live on the 21st floor. The second time he did that, you started getting used to it. After all, your boyfriend just so turned out to be Spider-man. It was just something you'd get used to sooner rather than later.

Turning around and telling him, “Come in.”, you could already feel your lips form into a smile like that of a little kid's. Jake does as you said and opens the window, slowly climbing inside while you quickly save your homework document in the meantime.

“So, big guy, what was saving New York like today?” you joke before turning around to look at him. Though, once you see Jake holding onto your armchair for stability, your smile fades as quickly as it appeared and you get up when your eyes scan his body - three major scratches across his chest, along with other small wounds across his face (though these are a given by now). But also- scratches? No, it looks more like someone tried to slice him up with.. you don't even know what. Knives? This big? You can only imagine how he got these.

“Different, for sure.” he replies in a joking manner (even though there is no smile), and you can hear just a tiny bit of the pain he must be in in his voice.

“Jake?” you end up whispering as you walk towards him, and he simply lets himself fall onto your armchair before you sit down beside him.

“Seems that reptiles aren't my biggest fans.” he jokes; now smiling as he lets his head fall back while trying to catch his breath. In the meantime, you can't help but scan his wounds up close and - it's safe to say, someone (or something) possibly did try to slice him up from the looks of it.

“Reptiles?” you repeat, the confusion in your voice being very easy to identify; something Jake had already seen coming though, so that is far from surprising.

Before speaking up to elaborate further, he lifts his head again to look at you up close, then explains; “Remember that thing on the bridge yesterday? The thing that was ‘bigger’ than a human.. Well, turns out it's actually some kind of giant, mutant lizard. And it's living in the sewers, apparently.”

“A what?” raising your eyebrows in shock immediately, you can't help but blink in utter confusion a few times - at least before your eyes find their way back to his chest, and some dots start to connect by themselves. Well, his wounds make a little sense now at least. Still, neither of you could deny that ‘giant mutant lizard’ doesn't sound absolutely insane - so naturally, it takes you a second to process and.. imagine what that fight must've looked like just now.

“You're..” you frown; making eye contact with your boyfriend again after breaking it shortly. Jake on the other hand can't seem to even think about taking his eyes off of you. As per usual. “You're telling me you're fighting.. giant lizards?” you simply add. You're also certain that no matter how you would've worded this, it would sound equally just as crazy.

But, well.. your boyfriend IS Spider-man after all. So really, nothing should probably surprise you anymore. If you had to guess, things would, most likely, only get crazier from here on.

“Yeah. Well, they suck.” Jake scoffs, followed by another smile on his face, but he quickly groans in pain right after; your eyes still fixated on his wounds. It’s not like he'll die of them, so you try telling yourself to stop being so dramatic, but still.. it's a sight you'd rather not get too used to.

You hate seeing him like this. Usually, you're pretty used to seeing him with small or at least smaller wounds by now, but this? This is.. low-key crazy. You keep telling yourself that he is literally Spider-man, and that there's.. kinda no way to avoid getting hurt, yet all you hope for is to see him in one piece every single time. And it seems that the longer he keeps doing what he's doing, the chances of seeing him at all keep getting slimmer. Which is something that truly keeps you up at night, easily causing goosebumps all over your body.

“Hey.” Jake quietly says, simply to bring you back to reality once he notices you're lost in thoughts, and the next thing you feel is his hand on your cheek, softly cupping it.

Once you're actually back, you properly reconnect the eye contact you so love with him again. “What is it?” he questions not too long after, barely whispering while trying to read your expression. You, on the other hand, just remain silent; swallowing, before taking a sharp breath.

“Take this off, I'll take care of it.” pretty much avoiding the question, you point to his suit instead (or at least the upper part of it) - since, every time Jake has come here, you took care of him and his injuries. And today was gonna be no different.

While he makes sure the city is okay, you need to make sure he's okay. And vice versa, Jake has to make sure you're okay, by coming back to you every time like promised. New York could be safe for all he wants - only seeing your face every time makes him feel truly safe and sound.

And so again, he does as you say; moving to sit on the floor while leaning against your bed, he watches you do your little magic in silence. Silence, awe, admiration - it's all the same when it comes to you, really. He doesn't even deserve you, Jake thinks to himself. Like he does everyday.

Your ‘little magic’ though, simply includes disinfecting his wounds first; a process the both of you have gotten used to by now.

Once he's rolled down his suit a little, you begin to carefully pat his chest with the tissue again and again, so careful as if he'd break if you made one wrong move. Which.. seems sort of funny. You're patching up the Spider-man after all.

Jake, in the meantime, can't seem to take his eyes off of you again, so he simply doesn't. Instead, he watches your every move like his life depends on it. The look in your eyes has changed. You've gone quiet. Like, awfully quiet.

“Y/N.” he tries again after just a moment - after you clearly avoided his question the first time. When you look up just the tiniest bit, you're immediately met with his eyes on you already in no time. Oh. His eyes. “What is it?” he repeats, hoping to get you to talk this time.

Looking at him, it takes you a few moments to even form a somewhat coherent thought. Sometimes you wish you could just stop time and stay like this. With him, here. Forever.

Sure, being Spider-man's girlfriend had its perks - like Jake taking you with him to swing around New York together. Surely.. an original experience! But it also meant praying he'd come home to you every time there was trouble in the city.

“I'm just scared for you, is all.” you sigh quietly, tilting your head a tiny bit. For just a moment, silence enters, and it feels like you're falling in love with him all over again. You're just glad he's here.

“You won't lose me.” Jake assures you in the softest tone possible and immediately brings his hand back to your cheek, only to bring your face closer to his. Close enough to place a kiss on your lips, a reassuring one. A kiss that, as you both know, says something words wish they could truly encapsulate. Breaking the kiss for a short, simple “I promise.”, he immediately reconnects your lips again like he'd suffocate if he didn't.

What starts as a lovely, reassuring kiss, quickly seems to turn into something much more intimate when you feel Jake rest his other hand on your waist only to pull you as close as possible; to feel your body right against his.

Spider-man might have impressive healing abilities that are above those of the average person, but Jake felt as if having you near him was already enough healing.

“I love you.” he breathes into the kiss, and quickly tries to catch his breath when you do the same for a second. Your faces still dangerously close, all you seem to be able to get out is a “I love you too.” that sounds very out of breath, like you were the one fighting a giant mutant lizard just before.

Bringing your hand up to rest on the side of his neck, Jake can't help but sigh when he backs off a tiny bit, only so he can get a good look at you. God, you're beautiful he thinks to himself. Basically looking at you the same way he did when he first told you he loved you, he automatically moves the few strands of hair out of your face; tucking them behind your ear, while his eyes simply shine with admiration. But mostly love.

“I just love you, Y/N.” your boyfriend repeats while shaking his head slightly, and sounding completely hopeless as if he just accepted that he is, indeed, hopelessly in love with you. Though, that was more or less the case anyway.. it still is, actually. Watching his eyes go back and forth between your eyes and lips, Jake speaks up again in a low voice, “You won't lose me.”. However this time, it's a promise rather than a reassurance.

Your eyes lighting up with pure love at his words and the look in his eyes, you can't seem to hide the way your lips are forming into another tiny smile - so you decide to just let them speak by placing them on his once again.

It's like your lips were perfectly made for each other, especially when Jake tilts his head a tiny bit more to deepen the kiss - his hand still on your neck, and if it were to go after him, he'd never remove it again. It's like you were perfectly made for each other.

“Jake.” you mumble into the kiss, yet keep it going because his lips feel a little too good moving against yours. Although you don't wanna let go, you (sadly) do end up breaking the kiss - which causes Jake to immediately look at you as you're gathering your thoughts one by one.

“I need to ask you a favour. It'll sound really selfish, though.” you begin quietly, only to receive a promising nod from his side, waiting for you to continue curiously while his eyes go back and forth between your eyes and lips again. Swallowing, you carefully ask, “You know I love that you're Spider-man, but can you just be Jake for tonight and stay?” Yeah, you were right about it sounding kinda selfish. Jesus.

But, like, it's true, and you couldn't really figure out a better way to word it. I mean, obviously you love that he's Spider-man - literally who wouldn't? But it's true that you love Jake Sim more. Even if just a tiny bit, which is why you want, - or need, actually - him with you tonight. Just Jake. Just the two of you.

“It doesn't sound selfish.” is the first thing he says in response, slightly shaking his head for further assurance. You're not only glad about it, but you feel your heartbeat increase rapidly when you see yet another smile form on his face, which (thank god), he doesn't even try to hide as it's getting too big. “Actually,” he lightly scoffs, biting on his lip as you watch him do so (it drives you nuts every time).

“I was hoping you'd say that, princess.” is the last thing he says before pulling you in for a kiss much, much more intimate than the ones before.

taglist @tyunni @geombyu @jaeyunverse @yjwfav @sieuneo @beombisou @neos127

[delusionsofgrandeur13]

CASUAL

two weeks and his dad invites you to his beach house..

chapter three

NSFW!! MDNI. seriously. please look away.

tim drake x reader

readers can expect: many sexual acts, sex sans condom, shower sex, semi-public fingering, oral like reader receiving and face fucking, blurry relationship lines, missionary and cowgirl, etc. i went buck wild and so reader did too.

one chapter left, it’s just gonna keep getting crazier. thanks for waiting so patiently, it’s a LONG one. enjoy!!

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

“well, i need you to decide now.” 

“this would’ve been a lot easier if you’d given me even a week’s notice..” you trail off under your breath, rolling your eyes. 

you’re gonna have to call out of work, and see if your neighbor, or maybe lydia? could water your plants. you’d have to write up a note on which plants need some sun and which need more water than others. you’d need to make sure you have everything you need, from shorts, sandals, a bikini, to definitely something fancier, knowing tim’s family. 

you sigh, shaking your head, lost in thought.

“no?!” tim asks, incredulous. you snap to, blinking. 

“what? no. yes, i’ll go with you. calm down.” you reply, making a face when he huffs at you. 

———————————————————

earlier 

“you look antisocial.” bruce wayne’s voice echoed around the empty den, the ice in his whiskey glass clinking as he set it down.

“i’m the president of a frat. being antisocial is borderline—no, downright impossible.”

bruce rubs a hand over his face, sighing. 

“i know that, tim, and you know that, but we: the family, the frat…” bruce sighs again. “we need the good publicity.” 

“it’s been a few weeks already, though.” tim gestures with his hands, getting exasperated. feeling like he’s trying to climb out of a sand pit. he will not be winning this argument. “doesn’t enough happen in gotham that people have already forgotten?” 

“you’d think, right?” bruce chuckles darkly, shaking his head. “but unfortunately for you, no.”

“but—bruce, i’m not dating right now. who am i supposed to bring?” tim looks incredulous, his hands spread wide. 

“you’ll figure it out.” bruce is hiding a smile behind his whiskey glass, taking a long sip.

“oh, come on—,” tim shuts his mouth when bruce holds up a hand. 

“you have a month.”

———————————————————

the week of..

seagulls call out to each other as the sea crashes beneath them, the sun a spotlight onto this beautiful little town you’d never thought you’d see. 

old, colonial style houses with gardens full of obnoxiously huge hydrangea bushes, beautiful old women walking their pedigree cocker spaniels, golden retrievers, groomed poodles. the town center built on brick, with shops selling salt water taffy and artisanal, locally made ceramics. an old mustang drives past, rumbling down the cracked, well-worn streets. 

the air itself feels premium, a deep breath bringing the fresh smell of clean earth and a lower note of salt from the ocean’s immediate presence. 

it’d be overwhelming if it didn’t seem so perfect, the smile on tim’s face sending your heart stuttering. why didn’t you get out of gotham more often? 

he grabs your suitcase from the trunk, setting it onto the gray gravel of the driveway with a crunch. how did they make even rocks look expensive? you take it, wheeling it over to the front door the best you can, tim behind you. 

“master timothy.” an elderly man dressed to the nines opens the door, his mustache and beard gray but groomed to perfection. “they’re expecting you in the backyard.” 

“we’re late?” you hiss to the boy next to you as he starts after the butler.

“..nah,” tim replies, looking back to give you a lazy and meant-to-be reassuring smile. you breathe in again, thinking about what this place would smell like as a candle.

“timmy…” the closest guy shouts, raising the cup he’s holding. his deep brown skin shines in the sunlight, glistening along with his wet swim trunks as he reclines on the deck furniture. 

the blonde girl next to him turns, along with the girl she was talking to, who’s smaller, with a haircut not too different from tim’s. you try to roll your shoulders back as they take you in, the blonde girl giving you a solicitous smile. 

the back yard is beautiful, and huge, the grassy lawn neverending, the pool attached to an almost pool-sized hot tub and a bar, tall trees surrounding the fence for privacy, but not blocking the sunlight. 

the butler comes out with a tray of sandwiches and a refilled pitcher of lemonade, to cheers from the group.  

the sun starts to set before you know it, and exhaustion sinks into your bones. your face hurts from smiling, voice scratchy from all the talking. 

making a hasty excuse, you scamper inside. the silence of the kitchen helps loosen the vice on your ribs, letting you breathe in the cool air. 

the butler watches you with an amused look from where he stands, behind the kitchen island. you notice him with a start, trying to play it off as the corners of his eyes crinkle into well-worn divots.

“could i please get some water, mr...?” 

“pennyworth. but just alfred, please. and you are?” he extends his hand, nodding as you tell him your name, shaking his hand how you were taught to. “it’s lovely to meet you. would you like a bottle of water or a glass?” 

“just a glass, if that’s alright.” you fidget, putting your hands behind your back. 

“of course it’s alright, dear.” he hands you the glass, filled with frigid water but no ice. you thank him, gulping down a sip. “is there anything else i can do for you? show you your room? the bathroom?” 

“maybe just my room, if it’s okay.” you say, clearing your throat. 

he takes you upstairs, opening the door to your bedroom for the week with a sweeping gesture. your suitcase sits across the bed on the floor, your covers turned down. an open window beckons evening air inside, the smell of salt and flowers drifting into the space. 

“your room, miss.” 

“thank you very much, alfred.”

your new favorite place in the world, and it’s tim’s?

you shut your eyes, burrowing deeper into the cooled sheets and comforter.

tossing and turning, you can’t seem to shake the rolling feeling in your stomach that you’re not really supposed to be here. you settle onto your stomach, your face smushed into the pillow. a soft, cool hand brushes hair from your forehead, trailing down your burning skin to rub your back. 

eyes glued shut, you sigh contentedly. the restlessness leaves you in waves, peace settling into your bones. 

you feel the press of lips against your temple, and you fall into sleep as the presence fades. 

the house is alive, the smell of bacon flirting with your nostrils. you roll out of bed, pulling on a hoodie and putting your hair up. 

you come down the stairs, greeted by a small smile from cass who’s walking a loaded plate of pancakes to the table. your stomach growls, and duke chuckles from behind you.

“don’t worry, alfred’ll get you right.” 

you smile in reply, nodding sheepishly. you follow him to the kitchen, grabbing the plate he hands to you, taking it to the table. 

everything’s set, the bacon’s settled next to a steaming bowl of scrambled eggs, a pitcher of orange juice next to the basket of pre-toasted bread. 

the sound of footsteps hits your ears, tim yawning as he enters the dining room. a faded old hoodie hangs off his shoulders, pajama pants slung low on his hips. he stretches like a cat, overdramatic as ever. but his hoodie rises, and your eyes track the line of hair leading from his navel, disappearing into his waistband. your mouth starts watering, definitely from the food. not because you just remembered his habit of going commando in flannel pajama pants. he passes your side of the table, tugging at your ponytail.

tim seats himself across from you, shooting you a sleepy smirk. dark circles ring his eyes, his hair tousled. 

“good morning,” he says, his voice deep and thick with sleep. butterflies play tag in your large intestine as you and the table return the greeting. 

tim raises an eyebrow, the bacon plate in his outstretched hands. you nod eagerly, and he chuckles quietly at the look on your face. duke chatters to cass about how he hopes to even out his tan at the beach tomorrow, steph quietly talking to alfred about his dinner menu for the week. 

his bare foot pokes yours, and you stretch out your legs, slotting your feet between his on the ground. he leans over the table, the epitome of innocence as he shovels food into his mouth. 

the day is mellow, one spent to laugh and chat with new friends, to twine your fingers into tim’s hair and scratch. 

you’re given a tour of the small town, tim buying you your favorite flavor of saltwater taffy at the candy store, a souvenir necklace, the deep blue pendant made of seaglass. the way it catches the light reminds you of his eyes. 

later, bruce wayne and his eldest son, dick grayson, arrive. cass notices the rumble of the engine first, starting the charge into the house with her siblings following. tim stretches out a hand for you to grab, leading you in. 

“hello, hello!” dick says, gathering his siblings into a big group hug.

he brushes away your hand when you try to shake his, pulling you into a quick hug as well. 

“you must be here with tim,” dick says, his eyes twinkling and full of warmth. “welcome to the family!”

“what do y’all think..family game night?” duke asks, holding open a cupboard door, revealing stacks and stacks of board games.

“not monopoly, though!” steph shouts. “bruce is way too good at that one.”

“i beat him last time we played,” tim whispers into your ear, the smirk on his lips clear in his voice. 

he wins a game of uno, folds quickly in the following game of poker, salt water taffy as the chips. the wrapper crinkles as he pushes the candy out into his mouth, tucking the trash into his pocket. the hollowing of his cheeks as he sucks at the candy shouldn’t be as erotic as it is. 

steph rolls her eyes, pulling her pile of taffy away from him. 

“you always give up so early.” she says, tim’s eyebrow raising in response. 

“what’s it to you,” he replies, crossing his arms. cass laughs, duke chuckling under his breath. 

“either way,” dick says, “i’m gonna smoke you losers.” 

bruce drops his hand, effectively shutting him up. 

“royal flush!” duke shouts, pointing. cass’s eyebrows are touching her hair, her mouth a perfect ‘o’. steph scoffs, snatching up a taffy from her own stash to chew angrily. 

tim smirks, sliding an arm around your shoulders. 

“you’ll get ‘em next time, tiger.”

__________________________________________

the next day

“it’s probably a crime to ignore the way you look in that suit, babe.” 

you scoff, rolling your eyes. “too cheesy. try that on a different girl and see where it gets you. i am not the one.” 

tim smirks, crossing his arms. his sun kissed biceps look back at you as he leans in.

“i’ve gotten your pants off without a word, and i can do it again.” 

“shut it, drake,” you shove him, laughing. 

“usually i try to open it, doll.” he replies, and you roll your eyes again, starting down the beach. 

you look back, adding a sway to your hips when you see his eyes locked onto your retreating figure.

“tease!” he shouts after you. 

you bask in the sunlight, sliding your sunglasses up to watch the guys toss around a football. dick throws a perfect spiral to duke, who jumps to catch it one-handed. tim tackles him into the sand, dick cackling all the while. 

cass motions to you, and steph nods, stretching her long legs out onto the blanket, feet nested in the sand. 

“so,” she starts, tilting her head as she looks at you. “you and tim, huh?” 

you blush, nodding. cass rolls her eyes at steph, giving her a look. 

“yeah, yeah.” steph says, shaking her head. “look, did he tell you about us?” 

you furrow your eyebrows, tearing your eyes away from the boys by the water. 

“his family? of course.” you say, unsure. cass sighs.

“no, like, me and him,” steph says, her words sending your stomach off of a 50 foot cliff. 

“..no, he hasn’t.” you say, keeping your tone light. 

“we used to date, that’s all. nothing special for me, or anything.” she waves her hand. “water under the bridge, for sure. definitely got closer with his family, in the long run.” cass nods approvingly, giving you a reassuring smile.

“like, i promise there’s nothing there. it was a long time ago and we realized we’re much better off broken up.”

“okay,” you say, drawing circles in the sand.

“i just wanted to make sure you knew,” she continues, as you look up. “i knew he was never going to say anything.” 

you nod, leaning back onto your hands. “well, no hard feelings. i promise.” 

steph gives you a firm nod in return, her lips pulling into a grin. 

“i think we’ll be good friends.” 

cass hands you a peach ring from the bag. 

—————————————————

later, 

you head upstairs to shower before dinner, tim waiting a beat before following you up the stairs. 

he can barely take it, thinking about how you looked on the beach today. 

he wanted to take you right there on the sand, roll around with you until he had you on top of him, hips clapping into his as you bounce on his cock. 

he had to get you away, all to himself.

it was almost dinner time anyways. you two should probably work up an appetite, no?

steam envelops the room, the beat of the water on tile drowning out the soft moans that escape from your lips. your leg’s wrapped around his waist as he pounds into you, his eyes darkened with desire. tim’s barely able to hold back the rough noises leaving him, grunting as he watches the way your tits bounce with each of his thrusts. 

need burns through his body, sending waves of heat off of him onto you. you know he’s about to come, can see it in the furrow of his brows and stutter of his hips. 

he moans into the crook of your neck as he finishes, burying his hot cum deep inside of you.

you blink and tim’s beneath you, your back pressed against the shower wall as your leg rests on his shoulder. 

a rough lick across your clit has you arching away from the pristine tile, tim’s first three fingers buried inside of you, pushing his cum deeper. 

he’s relentless, sucking at your clit, messily shoving his fingers farther and farther into your pulsing hole. you can’t take it, the sensation making your thighs shake, your toes curl. you throw a hand over your mouth as you cry out. and before you know it:

you’re coming onto his tongue, and he laps it up, suckling and kissing away the mixture of your fluids. 

he kisses his way over your stomach, licking a flat stripe up the valley of your breasts. you grip at his back, scratching into the muscled skin. he moans from where he’s situated, sucking your nipple into his mouth as he works the other with his fingers, arousal burning ever hot between your thighs. he moves, and your resulting whine is swallowed by him as he kisses you, passion laced in his lips as his tongue dances with yours. you lean into him, arms around his neck, letting him hold you up on your shaky legs. 

gathering shampoo into his hands, he lathers it into bubbles before massaging it into your scalp. you practically go limp, his long fingers working, fingernails softly scratching. 

he carefully rinses out every sud, smoothing conditioner into your hair to let it sit as he grabs the soap bar. 

he slides it along your skin, his flushed cheeks and swollen lips making your heartbeat pound so loudly in your ears it’s a wonder that he can’t hear it.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

dinner’s at the local lobster restaurant, their neon sign winking at you as you enter. 

you’re happy: it’s not somewhere hoity-toity with seven spoons just for different courses. you know how to eat lobster, you know how to get messy. 

the plate in front of you makes your mouth water. you’re famished, the butter dripping off the corn on the cob and pooling under the herb-laden lobster has you blinking in disbelief. 

the rest of the table digs in, and duke watches in awe as you crack your lobster easily. 

“how’re you so good at that??” he asks, jaw dropped. 

you giggle, sucking the butter off of your finger, extremely aware of tim tracking the movement like he’s a wolf and you’re a bunny. funny, he does chase after you wherever you go, doesn’t he?

you beckon to duke, who hands you his plate. the shell of his lobster cracks easily for you, even with your butter-greased fingers. you slide it back over to him, bruce giving you a nod, a warm smile. 

“she’s so cool, but she never has the time to do anything. trust me, i’ve asked.” dick sighs.

you ponder this, pointing your seafood pick at him. 

“are you sure she’s not just saying she’s busy?” you ask, and dick’s eyes widen.

“yes, i swear. she’s got a ton going on. always, always working.” he says.

you nod, chewing on another bite of food.

“just take her lunch. on her break. find out where she likes to eat and what her order is and bring it to her. have a date at her workplace.” 

duke and dick’s eyes widen in unison, and duke nods. 

“dude. that’s perfect.” 

“why didn’t i think of that?!” dick says, disbelief painted across his face. the face he’s making along with the plastic bib is too much for everyone, just beyond comical. 

steph giggles beside you as cass snorts, the table dissolving into laughter. even tim chuckles, shaking his head. 

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

that night 

“it’s not like he was given a month in advance, or anything.”

you can feel yourself opening and closing your mouth like a fish. A MONTH?

and he took his sweet time, too. floundering around, always looking like he needed to say something to you every time he saw you. 

god, he’s so baffling!

“he—he asked me two days ago.” you’re looking at your hands, folded in your lap. you were barely even able to squeak out that sentence to her, feeling like it was some big secret or something.

“you’re his girlfriend, and he took a month to ask you to come on a family vacation? we do these every year, the date is always on the calendar..” steph’s looking at you with wide eyes, shaking her head. she looks baffled too. that’s somewhat reassuring.

a low knock sounds at your door. you look to steph, who shrugs. 

“yeah?”

no reply, just tim sweeping the door open before lifting his arms to hold onto the door frame. 

steph rolls her eyes, and you just look at him expectantly. 

“steph, i need to talk to her.”

“..okay?” 

he leans against the frame, crossing his arms. his biceps bulge, looking bigger in the low light of the lamp. 

“alone?” 

steph looks to you, and after you nod, gets up with a sigh. 

“yeah. whatever.” 

she brushes past him, and he moves quickly, the door closed and click locked behind him. 

“what do you want,” you start, but he’s over to you before you can blink. his arms circle your waist, and your palms rest on his chest, smooth, like it was choreographed. 

“you.” he smiles as you roll your eyes. “i missed you.” 

“….uh-huh.” 

he pulls you impossibly closer, looking deep into your eyes. 

“you’re so cute when you’re annoyed with me.” 

you try to push him off, and he relents. but instead he grabs your hands, walking back until he hits the bed, sitting. you’re standing over him now, your hands naturally going to his neck as you play with his hair. he’s been letting it grow since summer started, but you know he’ll probably want to cut it soon. 

you thread your fingers into the little curling hairs at his nape, cherishing the length while he has it. you know he’ll spend a week after his trip to the family barber obsessively looking in the mirror and messing with his bangs until he’s (barely) satisfied. 

“where’d you go?”

you blink, his gaze boring into yours. you feel your cheeks heat as you realize he’s been studying you as you drifted into nowhereville thinking about his haircut habits. ridiculous. 

“nunya.”

he scoffs, an amused look on his face as he raises an eyebrow at you. 

“oh, really?”

“mmhm. yep.”

he digs his thumb into your hip, right where you’re ticklish, and you yank a little where your hand is gripped into his hair. 

“okay, okay,” he holds his hands up in surrender, and seeing the opportunity, you grab them and push him onto the bed, straddling his hips. 

he makes a surprised noise that has you stifling a giggle as you hold his hands above his head. 

your turn. 

“you think it’s sooo cuuute when i’m annoyed, huh?”

he nods, a stupid grin on his face. 

“you’ve got that right.” 

—————

he moans into your mouth, one that would’ve been loud, were you not tongue deep. 

you roll your hips against him again. you can feel the wet spot on his boxers through your panties, and you lean back to tug him free. 

his length bobs out, and he’s hard as a rock, a pearl of pre glistening on his tip. you swipe it off with your thumb and he slaps a hand to his mouth to stifle a groan. you’ve been relentless, to say the least. and you don’t plan on stopping anytime soon. you push his bared cock against his stomach, not bothering to remove anything but your shirt as you rock back and forth against it. 

“god, fuck! fuck me,” he pants, his hands gripping into your thighs in a way that’ll no doubt bruise. 

“i will if you’re good.”

“if i’m good—,” 

and you know he would’ve finished his sentence in some smart-aleck way if you hadn’t leaned back, running a finger over his tip. 

his exhale is a whimper, his eyes slammed closed. 

you pull your panties to the side, spreading your folds over his shaft. the wet warmth of the spot between your legs has tim hissing, his hands clenched so tightly at your hips you’ll be bruised in the morning. you move your hips back, sitting up on your knees. 

he looks so concerned, you giggle, the idea of you moving just devastating to him. 

you grab his cock, pumping it in your hand before lining it up with your entrance. you’re so wet, so ready, that you bottom out easily. you’re not paying any attention to tim, your hands planted on his chest as you roll your hips over his, the friction sending shocks of pleasure up your body. you press tim further into the mattress, his groans mixing with the wet sound of your bodies melding together. 

“tim,” you pant, and he knows immediately, starting up exactly where you stopped, his hips lifting from the bed to drive his cock deeper into you. throwing your head back, you suppress a moan feeling the way tim’s hitting that perfect spot.  

__________________

tim can’t believe how good it feels to have you clench around him like that, pulling him further in. his back is damp with sweat, his skin hot against yours. 

he loves having you underneath him like this, letting him pound you into the bed like you don’t have to walk around tomorrow. 

your nails scratch into the soft skin of his back, the thought of bearing evidence of your pleasure makes his eyes roll back. 

he whimpers into the crook of your neck as he fucks into you, the roll of his hips driving him deeper and deeper still. 

but you want his attention. you need his attention. you’re not just some plaything of his.

“so i’m your girlfriend, huh?” you grit out, fingers grabbing at his chin to keep his eyes on yours. 

“where’d you hear that one?” tim replies, his slanted brows becoming angry slashes on his face, the darkness exaggerating his features in an unrecognizable way. 

“your family, tim.” you say, smirking when you feel his hips stutter and stop, the look on his face making you giggle. “what, like i wasn’t gonna hear about it? i’m living in your dad’s house.” 

he’s opening and closing his mouth like a fish, and when he opens it again, you stick your middle and ring fingers in. his eyes widen with surprise, but he relents, sucking on your digits, swirling his tongue around them. 

“now move.” you say, feeling him jump inside of you. he can act high and mighty all he wants, but he’s aching to finish just as much as you are. tim starts up again, snapping his hips into yours. 

you pull your fingers out with a pop, using how wet they are to rub circles on your clit, just how you like it. tim’s eyes are huge, he’s unable to stop watching the way you’re using him for your own pleasure. 

two can play at that game, can’t they?

—————————————————————————

the next day

you’d really love to be concentrating on the conversation you’re in, but that’s borderline impossible with the way tim’s playing with your clit. 

his fingers pet over your lacy underwear, hidden by the long tablecloth and your dress. 

you fight the urge to curl your toes in your dressy sandals, tim’s hand nothing but a hard surface to grind up against. as he chats with mr. whoever about who knows what, he’s pulling your panties to the side, sliding a finger through the gathering slick to then push it into you. 

you stop breathing, thinking about the amount of people surrounding the two of you. 

he’s slow, methodical, trying to make you loud while he stays quiet.

he turns his attention back to your clit, noting the way it’s making you squirm.  

you turn the resulting moan into a cough, nothing tim’s smirk. asshole. 

tim rubs slow circles around the little pink bud, tutting under his breath at you when you try to cross your legs. you sigh, giving him a little nod, and he continues, pulling you right to the edge just to stop. you bite back a gasp at the sudden lack of stimulation, your pulse pounding out a beat between your legs. 

you’re coming around his fingers, pussy clenching as you try to pull him deeper. you feel heat creeping up your neck, burning your ears and cheeks as you fall apart for him in public, the noise of the party growing louder and louder in your ears. you grab your drink, gulping down the cool liquid. 

he pulls his hand away, slowly, nonchalant as ever. 

your pussy flutters around the lack of him, and you ache for another release, three, four. you doubt you’ll ever be truly sated when it comes to tim and the things he does to you.

he grabs his glass, spilling a little on his fingers. without so much as a glance to you, he sucks the liquid off of his middle digit, the one still warm from being inside of you. 

“well, montgomery, i think that if you continue to build your portfolio in such a way, it'll cause financial ruin down the road. i suggest you have it sent to my father’s assistant at wayne enterprises and i’ll take a look at it for you, find you some new stock.” 

mr. montgomery nods at tim’s suggestion, obviously trying to suppress how eager he is at the chance to have timothy drake-wayne look at his poor attempts at investing. 

ice clinks in glasses as soft music floats over the garden from the band in the corner, string lights twinkling overhead. 

his arms cross over your lower back, guiding you to sway along to the beat as you rest your head on his shoulder, your arms circling his neck. 

the spot between your thighs still aches from where his hand was, where his fingers had been pushed deep inside of you. 

you know you’re being watched, a sweet smile plastered to your face as the select few members of the press allowed in snap shots of you and tim. 

you can still feel your pulse down there, and you pull ever closer to tim. you feel his already hard cock react, twitching from where it’s pressed between your bodies.

haven’t even touched him, but he’s walking around with his need for you obvious. you’re shocked he hasn’t pulled you into an empty bedroom yet. 

probably too much press present.

the song ends, and tim breaks the embrace, those on the dancefloor clapping politely for the band. 

he leads you off to the side, saying he’s going to grab something to drink. you nod, feeling eyes on you, trying to not look like you’re shrinking into the corner, but trying to shrink into the corner. 

you’re in all white, pristine linen that feels dirty from being pressed up against tim like that in front of press, bruce’s friends, his family. 

it’s been awhile now, and the crowd’s cleared away from the little poolside bar, no tim in sight. 

“hey,” dick says, sidling up next to where you’re waiting. “you all good?” 

his thick eyebrows are knitted with concern, and he’s so endearing you can’t help but want to tell him the truth. 

“yeah,” you smile, watching his face relax in response. “just waiting for tim. he said he’d grab me something to drink, but..” you look around, lifting your hands as you shrug. 

“well then, this is perfect.” dick says, handing you one of the champagne flutes he’s holding. 

“thank you!” you gush, beaming up at him, cheeks rosy. did manners skip a generation in this family? 

dick returns your smile, grabbing your elbow to pull you closer as a guest pushes by. he asks about school, interrogating you about your major. 

he smirks when you talk about the mess hall food, laughs at a retelling of the time you fell down the stairs in a lecture hall, nods with fervor when you talk about protests on campus, eyes crinkling when you bemoan the way bubblegum flavored vodka smells on drunk breath. you don’t remember the last time someone paid this much attention to you, his eyes locked on yours as you talk with your hands, gesturing about with your glass. 

the golden, bubbling liquid has you babbling, giggling over whatever quip dick inserts into the conversation. you realize that you’re being rude, cutting yourself off abruptly, much to dick’s surprise. 

“but enough about me! what’s going on with you?” you rush out, shutting your mouth to give dick the stage.

dick chuckles, his grin like a little spotlight. 

“i’ve been working for the nonprofit side of wayne enterprises recently, trying to get a feel of where we could best help gotham.” he starts, and a sense of hope rises in your chest, flutters its wings delicately against your ribcage. 

“that sounds wonderful, dick!” you say, feeling yourself smiling like a dork. what a good idea. “does tim help with stuff like that?” 

dick notes the hopeful tilt in your voice, the responding sinking feeling in his chest. he’s got to take the chance while he can. 

“sometimes, but look—,” he starts, sighing into his glass. “tim’s not..he’s never been in a good relationship, honestly.” 

you look up, confused. 

“and that’s never been the fault of the other person.” he runs a hand through his hair, a little apprehensive. his eyes dart around. “that’s all i’ll say on the subject.” 

your mind’s reeling, moving through thoughts at lightning speed. you can’t say you’re surprised, but can you even do better? 

his face when he laughs flashes in your brain, the deep blue of his eyes, the little smile he gives you when he sees you after a long time. how he holds you, teases you. he brought you flowers on your birthday, paid for you to get your car a brand new radiator, driving you everywhere when it was in the shop getting fixed. 

the forehead kisses, the feeling of his hands on your waist, the press of his lips on your neck. you’d turn the way he smells into a candle if you could, a cologne that you could spray everywhere he wasn’t. 

the way he holds your hand, like he’s scared you’ll run if he lets go. the look on his face when you talk about guys in your classes, moving away from gotham after college.

and—

what would’ve happened if you’d met dick first? his blue eyes that hold a warning, contrasting with his light brown skin and his smile: one that’s easy, that he wears often. 

or stephanie, tim’s ex-girlfriend? would she have warned you away? held you close to her instead, defending you as a best friend would?

or even cass, silent, and obviously endeared towards her family—it seemed as if even through her love she was able to see past the shiny teeth and empty promises tim peddled. 

but you? it was too late for you. you were in much, much too deep. 

tim had to run off to the bathroom. there was no other way. he felt like he was going to explode if he didn’t. 

he darted up the stairs, knowing the house would be completely empty. locking the door to his bathroom (the one en suite to his room) he undoes his belt with practiced speed, yanking his boxers down. 

the ones he’s wearing are your favorites, the pair you steal to wear every time you sleep over. the thought sends his cock jerking, the tip red and swollen, already dripping precum. the last time he was this hard you’d been on your knees under him, and that memory alone almost has him repainting the bathroom door.

you were so ready for him, sitting next to him at dinner. so warm, and so, so wet. the feeling of you clenching around his fingers is all he can think about as he fucks his hand, bracing himself against the counter. your little gasps, the thin line your lips formed as you tried to bite back moans, all while tim was two fingers deep in your pretty pussy, curling his digits further into you. was he not supposed to react? 

and then dancing afterwards, his body pressed to yours lengthwise—he’d already been hard, but was practically dizzy from how fast the rest of his blood rushed to his cock. 

so that’s why he’s here, biting his lip so hard he’s probably drawing blood, harshly tugging at the length of his cock, eyes squeezed shut.  

tim groans, cum covering his hand as he shudders, breathing heavily. 

cleaning himself up, he hears laughter from the backyard. happy, full laughter, not the kind that most guests at the party would have. but you’re not most guests. tucking his shirt back in, he buckles his belt. 

he leans over, peering down through the window pane to try and get a glimpse of who you were so animatedly talking to. he goes up on the balls of his feet, and growls.

his brother.

“getting her drunk, dick?” tim’s voice sends a chill up your spine, feeling his presence behind you. you look down at your drink, watching the bubbles float to the surface, popping when they reach the top. tiny little deaths, tiny little fireworks. 

“no, just doing what you couldn’t.” dick replies, a tight-lipped smile glued to his face for onlookers. 

you try to suppress the shocked expression you feel your features reaching towards, opting to take another swig. you sling an amicable smile at dick, looping your arm through tim’s as he glares at his brother. 

in an attempt to ease the tension, you turn to tim. 

“have you chosen your classes for next semester yet?” 

“hm?” tim replies, distracted. “oh, my career consultant does that for me.” he smiles, that cheshire cat smile, and grabs your drink from you, tilting his head back as he finishes it. 

“did you hear she’s planning to ask bruce for a letter of rec?” dick says, smiling warmly at you, but addressing tim. 

“she..what?” tim looks at you, his eyebrows furrowing, his facial expression leaning into incredulity. 

“yeah, for my international affairs internship this fall. i told you about it last month, and..” you trail off, remembering that he hadn’t seemed like he was listening then, either. “well, anyway, i figured mr. wayne would be a good person to ask, and dick agreed, so.” 

you shrug, feeling like you’re shrinking by the second. 

“i’ll help you, babe. good idea.” tim relents, punctuating his sentence with a kiss to your temple. 

looking down, you squint. what is that on tim’s shoe?

——————————————————————————

the next day 

“you’re full of shit, drake,” a voice growls from the speaker of his phone. tinny, but the power behind it is evident nonetheless. 

“me? i’m full of shit, todd. me.” tim spits out, body language directed at his phone like the caller is really there. 

“did i stutter?”

tim scoffs, a sneer distorting his features as he delivers his next blow. 

“i don’t know why i entertain this. you. one push of the button and you’re dead to me.” 

“that was low, drake, but i can’t say i expected anything else.” 

“hmph.” tim’s scrubbing his hands over his face, through his hair. 

“but this shit? stop being such an asshole. i know that’s almost impossible for you,” the voice continues. “but this poor girl doesn’t deserve it. i have half a mind to pay her fucking college tuition. in your name, mind you.” 

tim’s rendered speechless, opening and closing his mouth. the voice chuckles. 

“you want me to stop selling to your ‘frat bros’?” the speaker says, the end of his sentence dripping in sarcasm. 

“i think i made that plenty clear,” tim says, words being grit out from behind his teeth. 

“so stop being a shithead.” 

tim’s fist clenches, and he almost hangs up. 

“still don’t see what the fuck this’s got to do with her.” he says. 

“you don’t need to see anything. i’m trying to keep the people of gotham safe.”

“..by selling them drugs?” tim laughs, sounding a little crazy. 

“mmph, well. if that’s how you want to phrase it, then yes.”

the call disconnects, and tim tosses his phone on his bed, a little too harshly. 

_________________

“let’s go.” tim snarls, pulling you into your room from the hallway. his grip on your hand loosens when he notices how wide your eyes are. 

he’s wearing that look on his face where he wants to yell but won’t. the resulting silence is usually worse than if he’d just do it. 

“is everything okay?” you ask, keeping your tone light.

his response is a jerky nod, grabbing your things from the dresser to toss into your open suitcase on the floor.

“can you at least fold them?” you plead, and he glances at you. you’re smirking, but it falters when you see the cold fury in his eyes.

you push the door closed, locking it before coming to stand right in front of him. 

his eyes widen when you drop to your knees, unbuckling his belt, pulling his boxers and jeans down. 

you pull at his shaft until he’s hard, cooing over his angry, red tip and cupping his balls in your hand. 

kissing along the side of his cock, he threads his fingers into your hair as he watches you go down on him. 

his lips are pulled tight as he fights the urge to thrust into your mouth, to fuck your face. but that’s why you’re on your knees.

“let loose, drake.”

he nods, letting out a shaky sigh. you brace your hands on the top of his thighs, relaxing your throat as he slowly pushes himself deeper into your mouth. 

he keeps an eye on your face, watching your reaction as he slowly starts to thrust, your cheeks hollowed as your lips stretch to fit his cock.

tears stream down your cheeks, your hair tangled into tim’s fingers as he uses your mouth to get off. he’s gentle, but his pace is still relentless, your mouth so wet and warm. the look on his face is almost pained, like it feels too good. you know he loves having control like this, figured it would be the quickest way to calm him down, tire him out too much to be angry without actually dropping your pants. 

you look up at him, holding eye contact as he watches you bury your nose into the tuft of curls at the base of his cock. one last push of his hips, and you know he’s done, informed by months of experience at the way his stomach muscles tighten and he throws his head back.

a groan escapes from behind his gritted teeth, his hands gripping harder at your hair as he comes in your mouth. 

white, hot ropes of cum paint the back of your throat in excess as he falls apart, your hands pumping his length to get every last drop. 

he moans, eyes rolling back as you bob your head. but he stops you before you can get him worked up again, arousal rolling through his body as you let him out with a pop. 

you pull his pants back up, and he buckles them, getting you on your feet and leading you to the bed where he sits you on his lap. 

tim wipes your tears away, licking his thumb to smudge off runny makeup. you get a kiss on the forehead as he smooths your hair down, a kiss on the lips as he rubs your aching knees. 

__________________________________

rolling down the window, you wave like a little kid to your new friends, beaming at alfred, who returns the favor with a shy smile and a raised hand. 

“bye!”

“bye! see you later! bye!”

“bye cass, steph!! bye dick!! bye duke!!” you quickly pull yourself back into the car when tim tugs on your shirt, and once you’re buckled he rolls up your window.

he settles his hand onto your thigh as he makes his way down the driveway, speeding off down the road.

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tim drake's fan club:

(taglist)

@dfgcbgdc @benditlikegumby93 @agent-nobody-knows @jaybunsblog @astermos-74 @ravenna-reid @borutoistrash1-blog @slut4animedilfs @nuggget-consumer-9000 @turtleturtleturtleturtleneck @hellishattempt @trashhighwaybird @sergeant-angels-trashcan @lilithskywalker @natsukicookies @flowrs-on-an-empty-windowsill @athenastar27 @timdrakeisasugardaddy @1cxndy

(also added those interested in new parts, i can remove you from the taglist, just ask!)

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[jibitzlesscrocs]

maybe weird request, but can you write something with Matt and virgin reader, where they are making out and she stops him because she wants to wait until marriage, and that it’s making him even crazier about her, and hornier because in his mind that’s hot, but obviously he respects her and reassure her because she is a little worried that he might leave her

matt sturniolo x virgin!reader

warning : references to sex

not yet

in which, reader wants to wait

You were lying underneath him on his bed, half-laughing, half-out of breath, your legs tangled under his, your fingers still knotted in his hoodie as you pulled back from another kiss.

Matt looked wrecked in the prettiest way. His hair was messy, his lips red from kissing you senseless, and his eyes… those stupid blue eyes were locked on your mouth like he was trying to remember how to breathe.

“God,” he whispered, voice low and hoarse. “You keep kissing me like that and I’m gonna lose my mind.”

You gave a nervous laugh and bit your lip, chest rising and falling as you caught your breath. His hand was still at your waist, his other supporting his weight beside your head, and you felt the slow shift in the air… the moment where it could turn into something else.

You loved Matt. That wasn’t even a question anymore. He made you feel seen, wild and safe at the same time. But your heart was pounding now, in that other way, because you knew where this was going if you didn’t say something.

So you did.

“I wanna stop.”

Matt froze immediately — no hesitation, no sigh, no roll of the eyes. His brows pinched slightly, concern flashing over his face.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, fingers still curled in the hem of his shirt. “Yeah. I just… I wanna wait.”

You saw the second it registered. His mouth parted, but he didn’t say anything yet, like he didn’t want to fill the silence with the wrong thing. You swallowed, throat dry.

“I’ve never…” You looked down, heat crawling up your neck. “And I don’t want to until I’m married.”

Matt didn’t move for a second. Then slowly, softly, he leaned back a little to give you space. His eyes searched yours like he was trying to read every word you hadn’t said yet.

“Okay,” he said.

Your heart fluttered, but nerves still twisted in your stomach. “I get it if that’s… a lot. I know that’s not what most people-”

“Hey.” His voice was gentle but firm. “Look at me.”

You did.

“I’m not ‘most people.’” His thumb brushed along your cheek, grounding you. “You think I’m here for sex?”

You blinked. “No, but… it’s not like you haven’t had the option.”

“Yeah,” Matt said, lips quirking just slightly. “But none of them were you.”

You stared at him, and he smiled — crooked and breathless, like you’d just knocked the wind out of him. “You could’ve said you wanted to wait ten years, and I’d still show up for you every day.”

“Besides,” he added, voice dipping as his eyes flicked to your lips again, “you think it’s not hot that you’re saving that part of yourself for someone you really love? You think that doesn’t make me wanna kiss you even more and earn the hell out of that trust?”

You were sure your heart stopped for a full second.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said seriously, forehead resting against yours. “You don’t owe me anything. I’m already yours.”

You felt your eyes sting, but you smiled. “Even if I keep making out with you and then backing out like a scared virgin?”

He grinned, wide and real this time. “Especially if you keep doing that. It’s driving me insane.”

You laughed, and he kissed you again — slower this time, less rushed — and you knew then that this wasn’t about holding him back.

It was about him choosing to meet you where you were.

And that made all the difference.

taglist: @courta13 , @sunkissedsturniolos , @ivysturnss , @imsoborediwannadie , @emeraldsturns , @beabadoobeelvur , @moth-feeet , @lezleeferguson-120 , @theowensturniolo , @leahfaith , @nickysturnss , @mattspillowprincess , @mqttsbunnyies , @passionfruitchris , @emely9274 , @riggysworld , @kenah-sturniolo , @hannahsturniolo , @tezzzzzzzz , @kenah-sturniolo , @sturniolo-szn2 , @stayingstromboli , @obsessedwiththesturniolos , @ph3ebssturniolo

MAI’S STORE

[dazed-19]

based on @havanillas role swap au

normal ratio and gambler ratio switch places :3

probably gonna write this out when i finish up my argenthill fic

dr.kakavasha is suspicious of “Lapis” but chalks it up to him being weirder than usual

ratio actually understands what’s going on and tries to play the role of Lapis. he hypothesized that aven probably took his place in this universe but when he sees dr.kakavasha he freezes up and almost reveals himself.

when dr. kakavasha actually has a meeting with veritas (by force not choice, more contrast between the characters hahaahha) he realizes its not Lapis and threatens veritas.

“You’ve done your research, you know that this stoneheart’s real name is veritas ratio, but it seems you somehow haven’t caught wind of who he is now. I suggest you reveal yourself so you can lessen your punishment. Impersonation of a stoneheart is strictly forbidden.”

Ratio being ratio, uses his wits to convince dr.kakavasha. He understands that since Dr. Kakavasha is similar to himself, he should see his reasoning. Dr. Kakavasha is surprised at first, but after he learns of what Ratio’s universe is like he obliges and helps Ratio figure a way back home. All the while asking Ratio questions about himself as he finally has a chance to see who the Veritas Ratio he heard so much about while studying was like before he turned into Lapis. He does this to also understand Lapis better, because he wants to know what was the difference and why they became so different. He also is very surprised when veritas whips out his abalasor head because what the fuck?? when they’re alone together ratio uses it when he’s deep in thought because while this is kakavasha, he isn’t his.

aventurine immediately realizes it’s not his doctor bc while Lapis understands what’s going on, he dreads having to be veritas ratio again. so he disappears (as best as he can) as he knows his counterpart will find a way to fix this. aven being aven finds Lapis (he’s lucky ofc he’s gonna find him) and is surprised to see how different Lapis is from veritas and makes note of how much nous’ gaze really impacted the both of them. (if aven already knows that ratio never received nous’ gaze make it so that he realizes how much it matters as well. idk if aven actually knows this so that’s why we gotta research.) he also invites Lapis to stay with him bc Lapis has been staying at a run down hotel with a casino. aven invites him also because he wants to understand veritas more so if he learns more about Lapis, veritas’ opposite but still similar, he’ll be able to figure veritas out. and also because he wants to find out how to get his doctor back. Safe to say he is SHOCKED when Lapis is almost exactly like himself. He knows he shouldn’t be surprised since Lapis already explained what was going on, but he’s still surprised. While he would love to see a version of Ratio gamble and win 10 times in a row, he knows that his Doctor would hate to see his reputation ruined and to be thought of as a gambling addict so he makes sure that Lapis stops before things get even crazier. He opts to let Lapis gamble with himself to at least keep him entertained. Also while Aven originally let Lapis stay so they could find out how set things right, he is again shocked when Lapis slacks off and almost never touches a single book or article about dimensional travel.

“Lapis, I hope you know that while I enjoy winning against you when we gamble,” Aven stated. He wanted to get a start on how to get his doctor back, and Ra- Lapis, had done as much as spending two seconds reading a book. He took a breath, “That’s not why I invited you to stay with me.”

“I am aware, however I’m sure your Ratio is on his way to figure out whatever happened. He’s honestly probably working with my little doctor hah. Oh how I wish I could’ve seen Dr. Kakavasha’s face when he realized it wasn’t me.”

Aventurine froze. “Sorry, Kakavasha?” Lapis looked at him for a moment. And then laughed.

“Oh right, hah. Here you’re not called by your birth name since your a stoneheart. I keep forgetting that, sorry Aventurine.”

Also there’s probably one moment where Aven finds Lapis drunk and there’s a reference to the comic the artist made.

“Lapis stared into Aventurine’s eyes. Like he was lost in them. It seemed as though he could stare into those multicolored eyes forever.

“Lapis, my friend, its about time we head back no? I’m sure you’ll regret not drinking any water tomorrow so-“

“They’re beautiful.”

“…What?”

“Those eyes.” He pauses, taking another moment to stare before he dons a smile too wide for the face Aventurine has come to know. “Hah its just like what happened last time I drank this much.” The blonde’s eyes widen into saucers. The sharp inhale he does does nothing to calm himself down.

“Haha, is- is that so?”

“Quite. It's most likely the one constant throughout the universe. Your eyes will always be pretty, and they will always make me yearn.” Lapis whispers the end of that sentence, like if he says it any louder this moment will shatter into a million pieces, like a mirror.”

[ariestrxsh]

brattamer!matt x brat!reader

🥀 content warning: smut, sneaking around, degradation, oral(f!receiving), rough unprotected sex, hair pulling, getting caught, enemies to lovers

🥀 summary: despite him being your worst enemy, you and matt can't keep your hands off each other, and you get even riskier in your sexual encounters

dividers by @/cyberangel-graphics

Hatef--k

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

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"You're even crazier than I thought if you think I'm sleeping on the couch," Matt sneered at me while we stood beneath the warm water. "It's not like you're going to be sleeping there the whole night. Just for the first little bit until we can both sneak into your room," I loudly whispered, rinsing the conditioner out of my hair. Matt rolled his eyes, but he didn't fight me on it. I turned off the water and stepped out of the shower and onto the fuzzy bath mat.

My heart dropped when I realized not only my clothes were on the tile floor of the bathroom, but so were Matt's. I turned to him with a stunned look and whispered through my teeth, "Nick knows." Matt looked at me confused, "what are you talking about?" I pointed at his bunched up clothes thrown haphazardly into a disheveled pile near the door. There's no way Nick didn't see them when he poked his head into the bathroom earlier, and he was certaintly smart enough to connect the dots.

"A pile of clothes doesn't mean shit. It could have been from earlier," Matt suggested, shrugging his shoulders and wrapping a towel around his waist. "Yeah, but you didn't shower earlier. You showered with me, and now your wet hair is going to give us away, too," I groaned, admiring the way the little droplets on Matt's chest slowly rolled down his stomach, trying to think on my feet but getting distracted by how hot he was. "Clothing on the floor is not a dead giveaway for anything. No one knows until they catch us in the act. If anyone asks you, deny, deny, deny. Until then, you assume they know nothing," Matt responded in a hushed voice.

I dried myself off and got dressed, making sure to gather my towel, my clothes, and most importantly, my vibrator. I peeked out of the bathroom door, looking both ways before glancing back at Matt and whispering, "The coast is clear." The two of us tiptoed down the hallway, and Matt snuck back into his room before anyone saw while I realized I'd left my bag in Nick's room. Shit.

I was nervous to face him in case he asked me a question I couldn't answer or was going to try to get me to admit what Matt and I had been doing. I knocked on Nick's door, hiding my vibrator under the towel I was holding. When Nick opened the door, he already knew what I was there for, "hey, need your tote bag?" He inquired. "Yes, please," I grinned at him as he let me into his room to grab it. "I can take your towel and clothes and put them -" Nick began to say, reaching out for the mess of fabric in my arms. "No!" I cut him off. "Thank you, Nick. But you've already done so much for me. I can take these to the laundry room myself." Nick shot me a look like he knew that I was being weird.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" Nick asked, staring inquisitively at me as if he could read the answers on my face. "About what?" I asked, playing dumb and avoiding eye contact. I was used to playing dumb to get boys' attention, but this was the first time I'd played dumb to try to get the attention off of me, and for some reason, it was way harder. "You're acting weird," Nick commented. "Well, everything's fine. Thanks for asking," I told him, grabbing my bag, carrying my heap of clothes, and concealing my vibrator underneath the fabric while I made my way into Matt's room.

A couple of hours later, Nick and Chris had both fallen asleep in their rooms, and I decided to text Matt, who was downstairs on the couch. "Please come up here. I need you more than anything right now," I typed out and hit send.

A few minutes later, Matt quietly came into the room, closing the door silently so no one would hear the door latch. "Needy little whore. Need me again, huh?" He whispered, shooting me a devious smile. I nodded and chewed on my lower lip. Matt pulled back the blanket that covered me and looked at me hungrily as he examined my naked body that lay vulnerable in front of him. "Get on your hands and knees. Now," Matt demanded. "Make me," I told him, not moving a muscle. He brutishly grabbed me by my waist and flipped me over in one fell swoop.

Before I knew it, I was on my stomach with my face buried in a pillow, and Matt's skillful hands were tightly grabbing either side of my hips. "Put your ass in the air, and if you don't listen to me, I won't let you cum tonight." Fuck. Matt knew how to get me to do what he wanted. I reluctantly obeyed him, surrendering all power to him, considering he had my orgasm-to-be in the palm of his hand and could crush my dreams at any moment he decided to pull away and leave me to my own devices.

All of a sudden, I felt his hands on my bottom and his soft, wet mouth as he began to graze my folds. I let out a soft moan while Matt continued teasing me. "You love getting eaten out from the back, don't you, you little whore?" He asked in a hoarse whisper. "Mhmm," I whimpered back. Matt moaned against my pussy, sending a vibration through my core while he prodded me with his velvety tongue. He spread me open and started suckling on my clit while he flicked his tongue across it. The combination of the different parts of his mouth working together while he had me bent over drove me wild.

Then he teased my slit with his finger and gently slipped it into my hole. "Oh my god," I sighed. He picked up the pace, causing me to bite on my fist to keep from screaming out his name. "Don't you dare cum yet, you little bitch. You'll finish when I tell you that you can," Matt growled, which brought me even closer to the edge. There was something about not being allowed to cum and not being able to make a whole lot of noise that made it significantly more difficult to keep myself from doing both, but having those limitations placed on me also made this particular sexual interaction even hotter.

My mind started to wander. What if I did let myself make noise? What if Chris and Nick did catch us? What if Nick could hear us through the wall and he was thinking about what a little whore I was for sneaking around with his brother? What if Chris walked in on us and wanted to join? I knew Matt would think I was such a little slut if he knew what thoughts were playing on my mind.

He explored every inch of the vessel between my legs, lapping up all my wetness and probing me with his finger. I did everything in my power to hold on, and right before I tipped past the point of no return, Matt ceased all stimulation. "No, no, please. Don't stop," I begged him, traumatized from all the times he had edged me over the course of the day and terrified he was about to do it again.

Instead, I felt his erection poking me while he felt around for my entrance. I delighted in the sensation as he pushed in his throbbing cock. "Oh," I gasped as he thrust his hips forward, stretching me out. "Little slut. Love getting fucked from behind," Matt grunted, starting to roughly pound me. He was right. I did love it. "What if we gave my brothers something to listen to, hmm?" He smugly laughed as if reading my thoughts. "Oh, fuck," I whined before I buried my face in the pillow to keep my desperate sounds muffled. "I know you wanna get caught, fucking whore," Matt huskily said into my ear. His thrusts were calculated, methodical, and drawn out.

"Faster," I moaned out louder than I meant to. "Beg for it, cunt," he rasped. "Please. Faster," I pathetically called out. "It doesn't sound like you really want it," Matt responded back, laughing to himself. "Fuck, Matt. Please fuck me faster and harder. I'm begging you," you pleaded with him at a slightly higher volume than before. "Jesus. I didn't say beg louder," he hushed me. "If you don't start fucking me harder and faster right fucking now, I'll scream your name until the whole house is awake," I threatened, looking back at him. He rolled his eyes and obliged, clapping into me with all his strength and stamina while I did my best to keep my whimpers to a minimum while he grabbed ahold of my hair and pulled on it.

"Please let me cum," I breathlessly begged. "Not yet," Matt gruffed. "Matt, please, I can't hold out much longer," I cried out, vision blurring and legs trembling. Matt's moans started to become more careless and less restrained. I could tell he was starting to get close as well. "Cum on my cock right this second, you little whore," Matt grunted while he fervently bucked his hips, using his grip on my hair as leverage.

I immediately felt my orgasm wash over me like a wavering tide that was determined to pull me under, and I surrendered to it. I was a moaning, writhing puddle of a pathetic woman beneath Matt as he finished into me. I could feel his member pulsing inside of me, enhancing the pleasure for us both. I couldn't get enough of him. I couldn't get enough of the power he held over me, and he knew it.

"Matt, please sleep here with me in your bed tonight," I begged him after he pulled himself out of me. "Of course, sweetheart," he said in a kinder voice, pulling me into his chest and kissing me on the lips and then again on my forehead. I was taken aback by his sudden gentle demeanor, but I didn't question it. I relished in how soft his presence felt wrapped around me, how safe I felt, and how at home I felt in his arms. I nestled myself into his neck and held onto him tightly. I didn't want to admit it, because Matt was disgusting, vile, and perverted, and there were times I wanted nothing to do with him, but in that moment, I found myself wishing I were his. We slowly drifted off to sleep intertwined with one another..

The next morning, I awoke to the sound of Nick's voice. "I knew it!" He exclaimed, and I panicked, realizing Matt was still in bed with me, spooning me while we both lay naked under the covers. "Fuck," Matt groaned, waking up and rubbing his eyes. "It all makes sense now," Chris said, standing on the other side of Nick. "I knew you guys hated each other a little too much," Nick smirked, putting the pieces together. Matt and I glanced at each other wide-eyed and embarrassed by having been caught. "Does this mean you're gonna ask her out, Matt?" Chris smiled, nudging his brother.

"You know, you guys have no boundaries," Matt responded, grabbing his pillow and hitting Chris in the stomach with it. "I don't get it. Is this just a hate fuck or are you in love with her?" Nick wondered, smiling at Matt. "Both. Now get the fuck out," Matt replied, launching the pillow at both his brothers. His response surprised me. Did Matt just admit to being in love with me?

"You guys are asking me questions that we haven't even had a chance to discuss yet, so if you could kindly get the fuck out of my room, I'd appreciate it. Thanks for putting us on the spot."